An Unfinished Life
by Sandylee007
Summary: At times you don't really get to know a person until their death. After Reid dies a huge box full of clues and mementos introduces the grieving team to the genius they never got the chance to know.     DEATH FIC         A POTENTIAL SIX SHOT
1. Prelude

A/N: Soooo… Now that I'm finishing off one project, I'm quite willing to TRY and lose my heart to another. (grins extremely nervously) This idea is the newest 'number one' of my CM-poll. **THANK YOU** so much for all those amazing people who have already voted! (glomps) (And the poll's still open, btw…)

WARNINGS: DEATH FIC. Language, a tiny bit of gore. (blinks) WOAH! That's gotta be the shortest one ever from me!

LENGTH: If you wish to read more of this, there'll be five more chapters. One for each stage of grief.

DISCLAIMER: Pft… If I DID own 'CM', well… You've seen my stories. The series would be quitea a bit different. (smirks sheepishly) Mah! I wish there was enough money on my bank account. (pouts)

TAKES PLACE: After JJ's departure and before Prentiss' 'death'.

(This story has nothing to do with the movie title as the title, btw, if someone's wondering.)

So… Yeah… (gulps) I hope you're all ready for this. Because I don't think there's any way of stalling this.

I REALLY hope you'll enjoy the ride!

* * *

><p><strong><em>An Unfinished Life<em>**

* * *

><p>'<em>Death never takes the wise man by surprise. He is always ready to go.<em>'

(Jean de La Fontaine)

* * *

><p>Prelude<p>

* * *

><p>It was snowing in Quantico on that day of early January, and every weather report announced that the day was atypically cold. Against all statistics.<p>

Jude Kinney, who at the age of barely thirty-four was the youngest member of her forensics team, shivered while she pulled on her uniform, hiding her long, scarlet hair. Irritation shone in her green eyes.

She'd always hated the cold.

She chased away the discomfort with a single deep breath for which she closed her eyes, then felt ready to do her job. Icy water splashed under her feet as she moved towards her destination under a brutally gray bridge. "So…", she started when seeing the actual scene of the 'event'. "What do we have here?"

"A John Doe", TJ Stamos, her forty-five years old colleague who'd hidden his black hair with a similar outfit to what she was wearing, responded in a gruff voice. His deep blue eyes appeared darker than usual as he stared at the corpse before him. "Looks like a jumper, although there's no suicide note I can spot. He died instantly."

As soon as she glanced towards the body Jude winced. With his brown hair swept away from his face, she realized just how young the man looked. Not even thirty – her best guess was that he was of her age. "Jesus… I hate it when they're this young."

"Hmph." TJ got up, stretching his stiff muscles. "See if you can find something I missed. I'm gonna go and report the cops."

Jude nodded, not paying much attention to the man as he passed by. All her focus was on the body that just lay there, halfway pulled out of the freezing, hungrily running water. After a moment she coaxed herself forward, kneeled slowly by the body. It was amazing, really, that although there must've been a huge amount of damage inside him his face had remained practically unharmed. There was only one, heart-shaped scrape on his colorless forehead.

Even with his eyes open in death, he looked like he was sleeping.

Jude grit her teeth. This was just duty, she reminded herself. She was doing this for him.

"'Sorry, kid", she whispered while flipping the body over cautiously. "But if it gives you any consolation, I'll try to be discreet."

His glazed over, half lidded eyes gave her no response so she looked away from them – to discover that there was something she'd missed at first, almost hidden by his shirt. Her eyes widened a fraction while realization dawned in.

It was a badge.

"Hey, Stamos!" she called out in a slightly choked tone, unable to look away from the item. "I think you should see this."  
>TJ's steps were slow, almost lazy, when the man walked towards her. "I'm expecting you to have something important."<p>

Jude swallowed thickly, feeling sick to her stomach all of a sudden. This was going to be ugly. "This kid… He was a FBI."

TJ swore through his teeth. "Well shit."

* * *

><p>It was ten thirty, Derek Morgan observed while drumming his desk restlessly with a pen.<p>

His eyes shifted quickly, easily finding a unoccupied workstation nearby.

Ten thirty, and no sign of Spencer Reid. Of the same Spencer Reid who was pretty much every morning the first one present.

Those thoughts vanished for a microsecond when Emily Prentiss approached him. Her eyes also swept towards the empty chair and she frowned. "Still not a trace?"

Derek frowned as well, and at that moment he couldn't hold himself back for another second. He took his cell phone and dialed the same number he'd tried to reach about a hundred times over the past hour. He unleashed a growl when becoming directed to a voicemail. "Kid, unless you got really lucky last night you'd better hurry up and get your ass over here. You're kind of getting us all worried here."

He'd barely hung up before David Rossi's quite gloomy voice spoke. "When he shows up, it looks like he's in quite a bit of trouble." The older man nodded towards Aaron Hotchner's office. "I just saw Strauss going in there. And she didn't look happy."

The frowns from before deepening, Derek and Emily looked at each other.

What the hell was going on?

"_It's me again._" It took a moment before Derek realized that the voice came from his computer. There was a look of near terror on Penelope Garcia's face. "_Please tell me he's already in there._" Her voice was nearly pleading.

Derek grit his teeth, looking away from the computer screen for a moment. "Sorry, baby girl. Still not a trace."

Penelope's eyes flashed with distress and he was almost sure she chewed her lower lip. "_Tell me as soon as he shows up. I… I'll see if I can trace his cell phone, or something._" He could tell she was just trying to keep herself busy to stay sane. He couldn't really blame her.

It took a moment before Derek managed to lift his gaze from his tightly balled fists to Emily and David. Their grim faces told everything necessary.

After five agonizing seconds of heavy silence Emily pulled out her cell phone. "I'll try to call him again."

She never got the chance to dial the numbers, though. Because just then the door of Aaron's office opened and he walked out beside Erin Strauss. Just one look towards the unit chief's face made the three of them stiffen. Blood froze in Derek's veins, and it became hard to breathe.

They'd only seen their stone hard boss fall apart once, after Haley's death. But at that moment there was no mistaking it. There were barely controllable tears in the unit chief's eyes.

And suddenly the temperature was even lower than outside.

"Hotch?" Derek's sharp voice shook ever so slightly, and there was wild panic in the man's eyes. "What the hell is going on?"

When it became apparent that Aaron wouldn't be able to produce speech Erin stepped in. There was a great deal of grief in her eyes. "An hour and a half ago I got a call from the local police. They wanted to report to us immediately, considering the circumstances."

Emily frowned. Her jaw twitched twice. "What circumstances?"

Erin swallowed and glanced towards Aaron, as though hoping that he'd miraculously regain his ability to speak and spare her from having to do this. When he didn't she pulled in a long, slightly unsteady breath and looked directly at them. They'd never seen the kind of a look in her eyes they had now. "Dr. Spencer Reid was found dead this morning."

* * *

><p>'<em>A single death is a tragedy, a million deaths is a statistic.<em>'

(Joseph Stalin)

* * *

><p>TBC, OR NOT?<p>

* * *

><p>AN: Oh boy… Now there's a start… (sweatdrops)

So, whadda you say? Would you be willing to read through five more chapters of this? Or should this be put out of its misery? **PLEASE, **leave a review to let me know! It'd seriously mean the world to me.

Thank you so much for reading!

Who knows, maybe I'll be seeing ya guys around.

Take care!


	2. Denial

A/N: Hiya there, folks! (grins) Mah, I would've updated sooner but I've been insanely busy lately. (pouts) But hey, at least I didn't make you guys wait for months. Yay?

BUT, first off… WOAH! Thank you SO MUCH for those absolutely amazing reviews! (GLOMPS) Gosh, there are so many! You can't even imagine how loved you've made this story feel. (beams) Thank you!

Alrighty, then. (takes a deep breath and gulps nervously) I suppose it's go-time, eh? I REALLY hope you'll enjoy the ride!

* * *

><p>'<em>Cover my eyes<br>Cover my ears  
>Tell me these words are a lie<br>It can't be true  
>That I'm losing you<br>The sun cannot fall from the sky_'

(RyanDan, 'Tears of an Angel')

* * *

><p>'<em>Few tragedies can be more extensive than the stunting of life, few injustices deeper than the denial of an opportunity to strive or even to hope, by a limit imposed from without, but falsely identified as lying within.<em>'

(Stephen Jay Gould)

* * *

><p>Denial<p>

* * *

><p> _There was a disheartened look on three-year-old Spencer Reid's face when he stared at the unsolved Rubik's Cube before him. "Daddy, it's too hard", he stated in a misery-filled voice. He hated the fact that there seemed to be tears in his eyes. His father had always told him to never cry. His gaze was filled with despair when he looked towards the man. "I can't do it."_

_William Reid's expression told him clearly that there was no getting out of this one. The man's eyes narrowed slightly. "Don't ever say that, Spencer." His father grabbed his shoulder so hard that it almost hurt. "You… are a very special little boy, Spencer. There are few things that are impossible for you. I'm sure this isn't one of them."_

_Spencer frowned, by then truly afraid that he'd start to cry. "How?"_

_To his surprise William came close to smiling. "Patience, Spencer." The man poked his forehead with his finger. "Everything you need is right there. Just be patient, and let your mind work."_

_Half an hour later there was a strange look in his father's eyes when he brought the item to the man, a bright smile on his face._

_The cube had been solved completely._ /

* * *

><p>Emily Prentiss almost literally held her breath while standing in a long, utterly white hallway that had nothing but doors and a couple of long benches decorating it. She couldn't understand how it was possible that she was sitting there when she didn't have the slightest idea of how she got there.<p>

It felt like she'd been in some sort of a bizarre nightmare.

Or did, until she heard a unfamiliar male voice. "I'm sorry." Lifting her gaze with mild startle she found a man who was a lot shorter than she, and had the strangest pair of blue eyes she'd ever seen. His multiple wrinkles and rapidly graying hair, which pointed towards every imaginable direction, made him appear almost sixty years old. He tilted his head to the side, seeming to feel uncomfortable. Perhaps he wasn't that used to dealing with the living. "Can I help you?"

It took a long moment before Emily managed to nod. Her throat refused to function before she cleared it. "I… came to identify a body." Her voice sounded off and static in her ears. It enstrenghtened her belief that this was all just a sick dream. She took a deep breath, a horrible taste filling her mouth. "SSA Dr. Spencer Reid." How long was it from the last time she'd spoken his first name? Too long.

The man nodded in his turn. Hans Delco, she finally noticed from his nametag. "Why don't you follow me?" His lips opened, but in the end he swallowed the words. A FBI-agent wasn't supposed need preparations for seeing a body.

Even if the body was that of someone she considered a member of family, apparently.

Hans spoke while they walked for what felt a tiny eternity, but none of the words truly registered to her. Her mind didn't snap into a fully alert state until he pulled out a corpse that'd been covered by a white blanket. Then, far faster than she would've been ready for it, the coroner removed the last thing rooting her to blissful thinking.

Suddenly it wasn't just a bad dream anymore – a horrible trick played by her fickle subconsciousness.

Although she'd never been a huge fan of touching, at that very she brought her hand to his chest, only to discover what had already been told to her.

His heart wasn't beating anymore. There was no breath – no life – in him.

Dr. Spencer Reid was really gone. After everything their team had gone through together he'd died all alone, of a fucking broken neck from the fall he'd taken. Completely without a warning he'd been stolen away from them. And she couldn't even remember what she'd last said to him.

None of that made any sense to her.

It made no fucking sense, that the man lay before her was _gone_. That she'd never see his smile or hear his voice again.

"He didn't suffer", the coroner said in a quiet tone that spoke far more loudly than the actual words. She didn't meet the man's face, but felt him watching. "He died instantly, when he hit the water." He said it like it would've made any difference.

Emily didn't realize that she'd been barely breathing since seeing Spencer's body until she began to feel dizzy. Her feet were dangerously unsteady as she stumbled backwards. "I… I really have to go, now."

Hans nodded, obviously understanding more than she would've wanted him to. He didn't ask if she was alright or attempt to stop her when she dashed away.

She felt absolutely horrible for leaving Spencer there, all alone, into the hands of a total stranger, into one of those chilling, pitch black pits. Spencer had _always _hated the dark. All of a sudden she wished she would've managed to bring herself to tell the coroner that.

They really shouldn't abandon Spencer into the dark.

Emily stayed strong, until she made it to the hallway only a slight distance away. For all her life she'd been strong, pushed herself through the impossible. But at that very moment she just couldn't take the weight and pressure building up inside her.

She practically collapsed to a chair that'd miraculously been left there, felt all will leaving her muscles. As soon as she was down she brought a hand to her lips, feeling sick to her stomach when a storm she just couldn't handle rose inside. And for the first time in _forever _she broke down into tears.

Suddenly the world around her was a suffocatingly quiet place.

* * *

><p>A week after his death Spencer's apartment still had something that felt stunningly lot like him lingering in it.<p>

Aaron Hotchner figured that he probably shouldn't have been surprised. Spencer had always been the most _alive_ member of the team. It wouldn't have made sense that his spirit could've been wiped away so easily.

Perhaps Spencer had been so alive that eventually he'd simply burned out. That was the only explanation Aaron could find to the surreal reality at hand. Burned out to a point where the only way to go was down that bridge.

Aaron didn't want to believe it, honestly didn't. But the coroner's report left very little to be questioned.

There were no injuries the fall wouldn't have explained on Spencer's body, apart from a couple of bruises and a heart-shaped scrape on his forehead. There had also been no drugs in his bloodstream, which was something Aaron had inquired without the knowledge of the rest of the team. There wasn't even alcohol. Nothing that could've revealed the trigger. The apartment offered just as few answers. There were no signs of a struggle, or even proof that anyone other than Spencer would've ever been there. _Nothing_.

Absolutely nothing that would've explained how the hell it was possible that a member of their family was now gone, and would never enter this apartment or the office again.

Aaron could still remember the look there'd been in Spencer's eyes the last time he saw the genius. Exhaustion and worry he had been able to name, but it was the parts he hadn't been able to recognize that bothered him to a point of driving him insane.

What the hell happened to that man performing physics magic in the office? How blind had they been, to not notice how wrong things were?

They'd saved countless of potential victims from monsters. But it's always those he couldn't help that were left haunting Aaron.

The fact that he was all alone in the room where Spencer used to live, that'd never stop haunting Aaron. Because he noticed that there were unread books in the brunet's shelve, markings on his calendar, food in the refrigerator. Maybe they would've been able to pull him off of that bridge, if only they'd opened their eyes.

'Maybe', and 'if'. Always 'maybe' and 'if'. That was all Aaron was left with.

For the longest time Aaron, who'd grown used to being the team's invincible leader, couldn't even move. But then he noticed a huge cardboard box, abandoned to the room's corner so that he could just see it from where he stood. Curiosity overwhelmed shock, releasing his body from its temporary paralysis. His feet didn't feel quite steady as they carried him to the box.

It wasn't until he reached the tightly sealed box he noticed the note attached to it. Without a doubt the handwriting was Spencer's.

'_To the team._

_I'm so sorry._'

Aaron simply stared at the words, not quite sure what to feel about them. But slowly yet surely the weight of the past week came crashing down on him. At that very moment he buried his face into his hands and grit his teeth as hard as he could to hold back a scream while _everything_ came pouring out.

He could've sworn that at some point he felt Spencer there, watching him, but he didn't have the courage to make sure.

Because discovering that he was wrong… He wasn't sure if he would've been able to take such a hit.

* * *

><p>They'd <em>almost<em> lost Spencer what felt like a million times. And if Derek Morgan was fully honest with himself he'd always felt like the genius was only on loan. Despite all the lighter moments they shared there'd always been this lingering fear that Spencer would be snatched away one day, that the universe would remember to collect what really wasn't theirs to keep.

But even so, the sight before him felt surreal.

There was just no way he could make himself believe that he was participating in Spencer Reid's memorial service. That he was saying goodbye to his best friend.

It cut even deeper, to hear the whispers all around him, made by people who hadn't even really known the genius.

"… hear that he jumped off a bridge?"

"… makes sense. I mean, wasn't his mother crazy, too?"

At those words he finally lost his self control. Emitting a hazardous hissing sound through grit teeth he walked over to the two women who'd been talking – middle aged poor souls who hadn't even shown the decency to wear black. They gave him startled looks.

His eyes narrowed before he snarled in a tone that left nothing to be questioned. "I think… that it's for the best, if you get out of here. Right now."

At first the women stared at him, as though wondering if he was serious, then exchanged looks before walking away with expressions that made him feel sick to his stomach.

It was a couple of moments later he heard approaching steps, followed by Aaron's voice. "Do you feel better, now?"

Derek grit his teeth before turning towards his superior. "They said Reid's crazy. They… They said that he killed himself."

Aaron's eyes darkened. And suddenly the man appeared ten years older than just a couple of weeks ago. "Morgan… Reid did kill himself. The report we received was solid."

Derek had never felt the kind of a fury that rose within his body and soul. For the first time he honestly couldn't tell what he was about to do when his fists balled. "Reid didn't kill himself, do you hear me?" he hissed viciously through extremely tightly grit teeth. "He could've _never_ killed himself."

Aaron looked like a ton's weight had been lifted to his shoulders. When glancing briefly towards the direction of the altar the man almost lost the control over his stoic mask, and a little bit too much spilled through. "You saw the reports, Morgan. There was no evidence of someone having harmed him."

"He was pushed off of a fucking bridge! How the hell is that not 'harming him'?" he snarled, only vaguely aware of the fact that he was drawing some unwanted attention. There was a searing sensation in his eyes he ignored easily under the storm of rage and adrenaline. "You've worked with him just as long as I have, and this team is a family! You _know_ him! You know he'd never give up like that – he'd never be selfish enough to put his mother or us through that! How the hell can you have that little faith in him?"

"Stop it, both of you!" The familiar snarling voice made them shut up instantly. Turning their heads they discovered JJ. There were tears streaming down her deathly pale cheeks, and she seemed to be trembling uncontrollably. She wiped her face with a swift, angry motion, never once breaking her glare. "We… We're here for Spence, don't you get that? So shut up."

Derek had no idea what to say to that, so he squeezed his lips together tightly and balled his fists, working his hardest to force down the stinging sensation that took over his eyes again. Then, so abruptly that he startled all three of them, he spun around and stormed out of the chapel into the churchyard. As soon as he made it out he gasped loudly, desperately trying to draw air into his burning lungs. He'd never, ever felt such physical ache.

He _refused_ to believe that this was really happening. That after everything Spencer – they all – had gone through the genius could just… fade way like this. He couldn't believe that whatever higher power there was working could be cruel enough to let this happen.

He couldn't believe that after how he'd struggled to protect Spencer he'd failed this way.

Derek was almost sure that he heard steps, somewhere in the distance. But he didn't really even check if anyone was following him or not. He just needed to move, to do something active, so that his brain would finally have the chance to stop buzzing a million miles per hour. He was starting to have a headache.

Spencer has headaches, too. Maybe they should…

It wasn't until several seconds later Derek realized the error in his trail of thought, and he pulled in a breath that _burned_ on its way down.

He wanted to cry, wanted to scream at the top of his lungs. But as it was all his body could handle was breathing.

A couple of almost stilled moments later Derek felt, so clearly that it truly hurt, a presence behind him. He didn't look over his shoulder, didn't want to discover that the one person he wanted to see wasn't there.

He had no idea how long he'd stood there until a hand was laid to his shoulder. Instead of Spencer David spoke. "Let's go inside. The service is about to begin." The older man looked like he hadn't slept in weeks.

Not really finding it in him to speak, Derek nodded somewhat numbly. Neither man spoke while making their way back inside.

As they entered Derek was pleased to discover that there weren't many people outside their team-family. He didn't want _anyone_ who'd never even known Spencer around when the actual service would begin. He was sure Spencer wouldn't appreciate hearing their hollow words.

His stomach, however, dropped when he noticed that Penelope was nowhere to be seen. Not that he should've been too surprised. Since Spencer's death Penelope… hadn't been herself. It was like she'd formed a cocoon around herself. As soon as the date of Spencer's memorial service had been revealed Penelope had announced that she wouldn't attend. Until this very moment Derek had somehow hoped that she would change her mind.

"I'm sorry." There was a heartbroken look in JJ's tear-filled eyes. The blonde looked away. "I… I tried, I really did. But I couldn't force her." He could tell the failure was killing her. Through this time from hell JJ had focused all her energy to efforts of trying to keep the team together. It was like keeping the team together had kept her from falling apart.

He tried to offer a smile, but it felt more like a grimace. "It's okay", was the best he could manage. He was exhausted, and the headache from before attacked him full force. Perhaps it was cruel but he couldn't carry her burden, too.

JJ opened her mouth, but before she could speak a word the priest – a grim-faced man of Derek's age who looked startlingly lot like Aaron – walked in. As though on some sort of a silent signal everyone slumped down. As soon as they did this horrifying, hazy look appeared to JJ's eyes while tears ran freely. Emily was breathing so heavily that it looked like she might collapse soon, and Derek could practically hear the howl she was trying to restrain. Aaron, on the other hand, grit his teeth so hard that a screeching sound could be heard. Rossi's eyes didn't seem completely dry while the man stared determinedly straigth forward, as though he'd seen something terribly interesting although his eyes were fixed on the wall.

And Derek… couldn't feel anything at all, inside or outside.

There was nothing but cold hollowness inside him when the priest started to speak words that made absolutely no sense to him.

This… was a nightmare. All he wanted to do was to wake up.

But instead, somewhere at his right JJ started to cry louder.

* * *

><p>The BAU office was completely dark while Penelope Garcia sat in front of her computer, her knees brought to her chest and her whole form shaking pitiably. She'd turned off her cell phone a long time ago, choosing to ignore the worried calls everyone seemed to be making. That's why the only sound heard in the room was Spencer's voice, coming from her computer.<p>

"_Hi mom, this is Spencer. I just really wanted you to know that I love you, and I need you to know that I spend every day of my life proud to be your son…_"

She hadn't shed a tear so far – not when she found out he was dead, not when JJ broke down completely after they received the coroner's report, not even today after everyone else had headed to the memorial service. But at that moment, at the sound of his voice, whatever little resolve she'd had broke.

She grabbed her hair with both hands, as tightly as she could, and _screamed_.

* * *

><p>In the end Kevin Lynch was the first one to peer into the box Aaron found from Spencer's apartment.<p>

When dropping by to deliver some papers he didn't catch a glimpse of the unit chief. Instead he saw the box, without the note left by Spencer. His curiosity was aroused instantly.

Making sure no one was about to catch him red-handed he approached and ripped the box open as carefully as possible. What he found made a frown appear to his face.

There was a lot of stuff that made no sense to him. But there was also a file, similar to those the FBI used.

'_Allison Hudson_', said the sticker on top of the file.

* * *

><p>It'd been three weeks, Neah counted, placing a long lock of fire red hair behind her ear. Her dark brown eyes grew nearly black with worry. Three weeks, and he'd said it'd only take one.<p>

'If all goes well.'

Where was he?

The sound of mail being dropped through her mail slot startled her so badly that she jumped and instinctively brought a hand to the .45 tied to her waistline. All she saw was a phone bill, assigned for 'Allison Hudson'.

Neah took several deep breaths, closing her eyes, and counted carefully to ten. She got the seven before a shrill, heartbreaking cry floated to her ears. Instantly forgetting everything else she wandered to the tiny apartment's living room. She found her nine-months-old baby girl from the child's crib, crying hopelessly.

"Shh…", she shushed while taking the baby into her arms. She rubbed soothing circles to the child's back while the cries continued. "Shh, sweetie… Were you lonely? Mommy's right here. Everything's okay." She hoped, from the bottom of her heart, that she would've been able to believe in her own words.

Gradually the baby's cries died out. Neah had just put the once again sleeping child back to her bed when her cell phone started to ring. Her blood turned into ice when she noticed who the caller was. _He _never called unless something was horribly wrong.

Her hand shook when she picked up. "William?"

The words she heard made a huge part of her world come crashing down. "_They… They got him, Neah._" The man sounded like he'd been crying. "_He's dead._"

* * *

><p>'<em>Doubt, indulged and cherished, is in danger of becoming denial; but if honest, and bent on thorough investigation, it may soon lead to full establishment of the truth.<em>'

(Ambrose Bierce)

* * *

><p>TBC, OR NOT?<p>

* * *

><p>AN: Awkay… (takes a deep breath) It wasn't entirely easy to write that. I think my eyes were almost moist at some point, and that NEVER happens! (shudders)

BUT… The important question is, how did you guys find the chapter? Was it any good, at all? **PLEASE, **leave a review to let me know! Awww, it'd totally make my day. (gives puppy's eyes)

IN THE NEXT ONE (if you, of course, want such): The next stage of grief hits the team hard. But when Reid's secrets start to spill, they're pulled to opposite direction. Is anything as it was before when they finally learn to know their deceased friend?

Until next time, folks, whichever story that may be with! (glances hopefully)

Take care!

* * *

><p><strong>Avesona23<strong>: I can't believe I killed him off, either. (winces) (Not that I wouldn't have done it before…)

BUT, I'm thrilled to hear that you enjoyed the startout nonetheless! I really hope the next one won't turn out to be a disappointment.

Gigantic thank yous for the review!

* * *

><p><strong>Syd<strong>: Seriously? (beams, and gasps) GOSH, you can't even begin to imagine how flattered and happy hearing that makes me! I can't believe someone would enjoy my stories that much.

I really hope this one won't fall flat, either.

Monumental thank yous for the incredible review!


	3. Anger

A/N: Oh man…! (winces) I'm so, so, SO sorry that it took me this long to update! I managed to get myself a nasty summertime flue, and then I was dragged out of the country for a while, which meant that I didn't have access to my computer for several days. (groans) BUT, now the new chapter is FINALLY here. Yay…?

First things first, though! GOSH, you guys, THANK YOU from the bottom of my heart for all those absolutely amazing reviews! There were so many of them… (beams, and glomps) Thank you! You guys really made me happy.

Awkay… (takes a breath) I guess it's time to keep going, eh? I REALLY hope this one turns out worth the wait.

* * *

><p>'<em>Yesterday I lost my closest friend<br>Yesterday I wanted time to end  
>I wonder if my heart will ever mend<br>I just let you slip away_

_Why don't you hear me when I'm calling out to you (to you)  
>Why don't you listen when I try to make it through (to you)<br>Goodbye, goodbye  
>Goodbye, you never know<br>Hold a little tighter_'

(Lostprophets, '4 AM Forever')

* * *

><p>'<em>Physiologically, it simply doesn't matter whether your anger is justified or not. The body doesn't make moral judgements about feelings; it just responds.<em>'

(Doc Childre and Howard Martin)

* * *

><p>Anger<p>

* * *

><p> _Less than a week after his fifth birthday Spencer was sitting in the living room, surrounded by books with two of them on his lap and one in his hands, when his father left the room to answer the door. The brief conversation he heard made him frown._

_"_Are you sure about this, William?_" The female voice he couldn't remember hearing before sounded tense. "_He's your own son…_"_

_"_Yes. Do you think I'd be doing this if I wasn't?_" his father snarled in the angry voice that Spencer associated with him getting into a trouble. There was a long moment of silence. "_He's in the living room._"_

_Before Spencer got the chance to prepare himself the two walked in. His attention immediately locked on the approximately thirty-years-old woman beside his father. She had chestnut-colored hair that just reached her chin and deep brown eyes that were looking at him with open curiosity._

_Spencer shrunk into himself, feeling so uncomfortable that his muscles twitched. For some reason this woman was making him nervous. Funny – usually he was the one making people look nervous and fidgety._

_"Spencer, this is Chloe, a colleague of mine", his father spoke, effectively pulling him out of his thoughts. Hard as he tried he couldn't read the look in the man's eyes. "Could you please say 'hi' to her?"_

_Always having been raised to be obedient, Spencer lifted his head with a slight, awkward smile. "Hi."_

_Chloe kneeled down to his level and gave him a smile that made him feel even more uneasy. "Well hello, Spencer. It's very nice to meet you – I've heard that you're a quite special little boy."_

_She nodded towards the kit placed behind her. "You know, after talking with your daddy I decided to bring in some nice games just for you. Would you like to try them?"_ /

* * *

><p>The air in Aaron's office was thick and heavy as the unit chief stared at the file that lay on the table before him.<p>

'_Allison Hudson_'.

Who was this woman?

What confused him even further, however, was the contents of the file – or rather lack of thereof. All he could see was a note, written in Spencer's handwriting.

'_Really, the fundamental, ultimate mystery, the only thing you need to know to understand the deepest metaphysical secrets, is this: that for every outside there is an inside and for every inside there is an outside, and although they are different, they go together._ _(Alan Watts)_'

"What are you going to do about this?"

It took a mighty while before Aaron managed to react to the voice. There was a deep line between his eyes as he glanced towards David from underneath his eyebrows. "I'm not sure how much I can do about this." His eyes fell on the empty file once more. "I have a feeling that Reid is trying to tell us something, but…" His voice faded away, because his throat couldn't handle the pressure of the words that wanted to crawl out.

"… we'd need Reid, to make sense to it."

They exchanged a look. And suddenly nothing needed to be said.

The cold he'd last felt during Spencer's funeral returned into Aaron's body, traveled through his veins with such intensity that he shivered. He grit his teeth and took a deep breath, trying to find the steel filled tranquility that was often his only link to sanity in the line of duty. "Don't tell the others about this yet. I want to look into this myself first." He didn't want to drop the bomb before he was sure.

David nodded. Only a tiny, barely visible twitch on his friend's lips revealed that the man didn't appreciate his decision. David's eyes then fell towards the box that rested on a chair nearby, scanned through all the items placed into it. "What about those?" The man looked at him once more. "Reid… He left those for them. He'd want them to have those."

Aaron focused on breathing for longest moment. He'd always been called a natural leader. In moments like this he hated that position. "I'm calling them in. The sooner this is over and done with the better."

* * *

><p>Derek honestly couldn't remember the last time he'd slept properly. It must've been before Spencer's death, because since then… Since then nights just hadn't been for sleeping anymore for him.<p>

Whenever he fell asleep he saw Spencer. All alone on that snowy bridge, looking downwards with empty, tear-filled eyes. When he tried to call out to his best friend the man didn't hear him, didn't react in any way whatsoever. Instead Spencer took a step forward and disappeared into emptiness, out of his sight and reach. Every single time Derek woke up to his own scream, only to realize that the nightmare wasn't over.

In the end Aaron ordered Derek to see a doctor when the man came to check up on him. They were all on a month long leave, but Aaron told him that from experience he knew that such a short amount of time wasn't enough to chase away the demons Derek was battling with. The unit chief even came along with him to the appointment, like he'd been a little child. All the doctor did was write a prescription for sleeping pills.

Derek was fairly sure that the appointment was now a week ago. He hadn't taken a single pill.

At this very moment he was staring at the bottle of pills like it'd been his worst enemy. He was only vaguely aware of the fact that Clooney was staring at him with intense worry from the background. His eyes narrowed.

He didn't want to sleep, didn't want to face those of his nightmares that could be avoided. It was enough to face one world where Spencer was…

Fortunately the dial tone of his cell phone cut that thought before the full impact could strike him. He frowned upon noticing who the caller was. "Hotch?" He sincerily hoped the unit chief wasn't calling to check up on him. He didn't feel up to it at the moment.

There was a momentary silence. "_I know that we're still on a leave, but… Something's come to my attention, and I'd like the entire team to be here. It's about Reid._" Those words made Derek's adrenaline spike up so that he could hear the atypical tightness in the other man's tone. Clearly this all was taking its toll on Aaron, too. "_I can't get a hold of Prentiss. Do you know where she is?_"

Derek grit his teeth to keep himself from groaning or swearing. In a moment he managed to speak. "Yeah, I know where she is. I'll bring her over." Without any further pleasantries he hung up.

Finally he had something other than the pills before him to think of. He put them away with sharp, almost angry motions, then got dressed and headed out of the apartment like the place had been on fire.

It took him only ten minutes to reach his destination. A yet another bout of anger wanted to flow through him when he saw Emily making her way out of a nearby bar. She looked absolutely exhausted, and with just one look he could tell that she hadn't settled for just water.

In a few seconds her slightly hazy eyes spotted his car. She frowned and hesitated before starting to walk towards him. The reek of alcohol filled the vehicle as she fell to the passenger seat. "Did I call you?" she inquired.

Derek had to gather his composure for the longest time before he dared to speak. Even then his voice was sharper than a whip. "Hotch asked me if I knew where you are. He wants everyone at the office. It's about Reid." He stopped to a red light, then started rummaging through the small bagpack he'd brought along. It didn't take him long to find what he'd been looking for. A thermos bottle. "It's black coffee. Maybe it helps you sober up a bit."

A hint of gratitude flashed in her eyes as she nodded wordlessly, then accepted his offering. Utter silence lingered for the longest time while she focused on sorting out her head and he struggled to keep himself from blowing up on her.

_She _wasn't the one who'd taken Spencer away. _She _wasn't the one who…

Perhaps there was too much adrenaline in his veins, because his senses sharpened. He frowned until he recognized the scent seeping to his consciousness. _Blood?_ Instinctively he glanced towards Emily, to notice that there was quite a bit of crimson liquid covering her tightly balled, trembling fists. It didn't take much to realize that the substance wasn't alcohol.

Clearly noticing what he was looking at Emily spoke in a voice that came from deep within her throat. "Quit looking at me like that, Morgan. This wasn't my first bar fight."

Derek couldn't help the far from friendly snort that erupted. "Yeah, I know. That's what I'm worried about." Seeing a barely traceable opening in Emily's defence he went on mercilessly. "This, what you're doing to yourself… He'd hate it." He continued although his throat felt dangerously blocked. "He'd hate to see that you've become like this because of him."

The flash that appeared to Emily's eyes actually chilled him. He'd never seen her eyes look the way they did then. "Well maybe he should've thought about that before jumping off that fucking bridge", she hissed.

At those words a flare that took Derek's breath away sped through him, with such force that he was sure it'd set him on fire. Emily emitted a tiny sound of surprise when he turned the car to the side of the road with a extremely aggressive motion, then slammed on the brakes and looked at her. "He didn't kill himself!" For a moment the fire that coursed through his veins actually scared him – he wasn't sure how much control he had over himself anymore. His eyes narrowed while he squeezed the steering wheel as hard as he could. "Someone… Someone killed him. And I'm not going to let it slide, whether Hotch approves or not."

Emily stared at him for a long moment until she managed to speak. "You're pretty sure about this, aren't you?"

Derek nodded. "I am. I know him well enough to be."

Emily all but stared at him for a couple of more moments, until she made up her mind and turned her head towards the car's window. He waited for a second or two before starting the car and continuing the journey towards the headquarters. Somehow it felt a little bit easier to breathe than some minutes earlier.

Emily looked through the car's window in utter silence for the longest time, until she finally murmured in a voice he barely heard. "I really hope you're right, Morgan."

* * *

><p>William LaMontagne had always been one of those people who enjoys the time they get to spend home, in their own peace with their beloved. But lately he'd found himself avoiding going home, although it made him feel like the worst person on the face of our fine planet.<p>

JJ… He remembered, as clear as crystal, what she'd been like when they first met. He had the perfect mental image of that woman he'd fallen in love with almost as soon as his eyes first met her. He'd _known_ her; even when they'd went to their first official date he'd known exactly which restaurant to pick and which dish she'd like the most. But now… This JJ, the one without Spencer, scared him. He didn't know how to handle the silent wrath constantly seeping below the surface, or the shield of silence she'd built around herself. He didn't even know how to touch her without making her fidget.

He didn't know how to live with this passively hostile stranger.

That very late evening Will entered his home quietly, like he'd been a trief of some sort. What he found was utter silence. He wasn't sure if that was a good sign or bad. At least Henry was asleep, but where was JJ?

He knew better than to call out to her – she never responded when he did these days, too lost into her thoughts to hear him. Instead he sauntered to the living room.

There, on their couch, JJ was sitting with a deck of cards held in her shaking hands. Her eyes were staring at something no one else but she could've possibly seen.

"Jayje?" He approached slowly, almost cautiously. "Are you okay?"

He seemed to get through to her at least a little bit, because she shuddered upon waking up from her thoughts and looked at him. It took a second before she managed to create a feeble fake smile. "Yeah. I am. I was just… I was thinking." She pushed herself up and dropped the deck of cards like it'd burned. "I'll make us some coffee."

Will frowned. "It's ten o'clock in the evening."

JJ pulled in a sharp breath. "I know."

"JJ." His tone of voice made her stop, although clearly reluctantly. "I know it hurts. And it's never gonna stop if you don't talk about it to anyone."

JJ grit her teeth so hard it must've hurt and gave him a look that made him shiver. "You… You don't have any idea of any of this. Okay? So just… Just stop pushing me, please."

Even during interrogations Will never enjoyed the situations where he had to push the suspect into the corner – that's when people usually reveal their ugliest sides. But at this point there wasn't much of a choice. And that's why he moved forward, until JJ had her back against the wall, then spoke in the exact tone he'd sworn to never bring home. "Then tell me, Jayje. How could I understand if you never explain?"

Her eyes were full of all those little things she'd struggled to keep buried, and she gasped like she'd been about to choke. "What do you want me to say?" The hiss felt like a stab. "How am I supposed to feel? He was one of the most precious people in my life, and now he's gone. He left us – just like my sister. How is that supposed to make me feel? How the hell am I supposed to feel about the thought that I'm never going to see him again?"

Her fists were still balled, but he noticed the way her knees shook and knew that she wouldn't be able to carry her own weight much longer. And so, ignoring all the nonverbal signs to stay away, he made his way to her and wrapped his arms around her as tightly as possible.

It took a long moment, but in the end JJ relaxed against him.

Relaxed, until the cracks widened. Completely without a warning she broke down into loud, wrenching sobs that smashed his heart to pieces. One of her hands squeezed him so tightly that it hurt while the other's nails dug deep into his skin, with the sheer force of despair. All he could do was hold on as she exploded into tiny pieces right there in his arms.

Time froze, until about a eternity later the dial tone of JJ's cell phone sneaked into their most intimate moment since Spencer's death. JJ immediately slipped from his arms and wiped her eyes with swift motions, then cleared her throat before daring to pick up. "Hey." She listened, and as she did the little color there'd been on her face faded away. "I'll be there in ten minutes." With that she hung up. Her eyes were unfamiliar when she looked at him. "I've… I've gotta go. It's about Spence – he… left something behind."

Will frowned as he watched her preparing to leave, feeling how cold settled into the pit of his stomach. "Are you okay?"

JJ's look told everything necessary. "I… I just… I need time." She opened her mouth, but instead of speaking what was on her mind she gave his cheek a chaste kiss. "Just… go to bed, okay? I'll see you tomorrow." And so the conversation was sealed.

She walked away, and Will didn't make a move to stop her. He didn't know if it was the right decision or not – perhaps it didn't even matter, because he wouldn't have been able to stop her, anyway. Not when it was Spencer calling out to her.

That thought sickened him, but it flashed by before he could even see it coming.

Taking a long breath that didn't really ease the weight on his chest at all he turned and headed towards the bathroom. Maybe a long, hot shower was exactly what he needed.

No amount of warm water could've replaced the warmth he was missing, though.

* * *

><p>Emily had a headache as she followed Derek to the conference room, and she had a feeling that her condition had nothing to do with alcohol. She needed to <em>sleep<em>, or much rather to wake up from this horrible dream she'd fallen into. But it appeared she wasn't about to get any relief. For the rest of the team was already there. The grim looks on their faces were a warning enough.

Normally Emily might've demanded why Aaron had called them in on such a late hour, especially when they were all on leave. But as it was all she managed to squeeze out was "What's this all about?"

Aaron's lips formed a thin, tight line before the unit chief spoke. "Reid… left some things, before his death. I think he'd want you to have them."

Emily felt a violent jolt inside her body.

She did _not_ want to see or hear this. But as it was she didn't have many choices.

It was around then she realized that there was a book on the table – one David Rossi had written. Aaron pushed it towards the older man with two fingers. "This… was also inside the box. It looks like he's read it through several times."

David's hands shook while he flipped through the book carefully. Were those… tears in his eyes? She could've sworn they were. "He's… He's made about a million markings, all over the book. He must've… spent a lot of time, with this." David swallowed thickly and blinked rapidly while showing them the very first page of the book, where the book's title and David's name had been imprinted.

'_I told you I was a huge fan of yours, didn't I?_

_Thank you, for everything._'

For the longest time it was utterly, painfully silent in the room as the group of well trained agents fought with their all to pull themselves together. They could all see the million cracks on Aaron's stoic mask as the man spoke once more, revealing a disc. The unit chief's eyes were fixed on Penelope. "He… left this, for you."

Penelope hesitated for the longest time until she finally took a single, tentative step, then made her way to Aaron as fast as she could and took the disc like the item had burned. Her lips opened, but in the end she couldn't emit a sound. She didn't say a thing, or even look at any of them, when she made her way to a further side of the room and slumped to a chair. Emily looked away when she noticed the tears forming into the blonde's eyes, and felt her stomach knot painfully. This was starting to feel far too real to her liking.

"What the hell is this?"

It took a moment before Emily realized that the clearly agitated, sharp voice came from Derek. There was a wounded, heartbreakingly lost and sad look in the dark skinned man's confused eyes. His hand shook as he held a neatly folded piece of paper.

Aaron seemed to draw in a heavy sigh. It wasn't until at that very moment Emily realized just how exhausted the man looked, how deep and dark the shadows in his eyes were. "It's something you need to figure out, Morgan."

Derek grit his teeth so hard that Emily could've sworn she heard a sickening screech, then made his decision. They all shuddered slightly at how hard the man banged the door upon leaving.

Once again it took quite a while before they all calmed down enough to carry on the excrusiating process.

JJ's eyes were slightly wide and full of fear when she looked at Aaron. The question was loudly present even without her voicing it.

"There was a note, saying '_I wouldn't trust anyone else to take care of them_'." Aaron was practically whispering, but his voice was still firm, almost soothing. He revealed a huge collection of beautiful butterflies – Spencer must've spent years collecting them. "I think we all know who he meant."

JJ shifted so that Emily couldn't see her face, but the way she shook upon taking the collection and pressing it tightly to her chest spoke enough. Everything was so quiet once again that it was nearly chilling.

Emily didn't truly feel like she was present in the events flashing by in the room until Aaron looked at her. "He left this for you. I think you know why."

Slowly, reluctantly, she lowered her eyes upon realizing that Aaron had placed something into her hands. Her heart lost a couple of beats, then took far too many in a much too short period of time. Her eyes didn't feel entirely dry as she stared at the item in her hands.

It was a star, exactly the same kind Spencer put together for her once in the jet.

Emily truly, honestly didn't have the slightest clue what to do, how to feel as she stared at the item in her hands.

After everything… _this _was what Spencer had wanted to leave her with? This would be the only physical evidence she'd have of him actually having existed?

* * *

><p> _"There was this young prince who wanted to win the heart of the fairest maiden in the land, so he climbed to the top of the tallest tower in the kingdom and he caught a falling star for her. Unfortunately, he was so excited that he dropped it and it smashed into all of these pieces. So he frantically put it back together again to prove his undying love to her and he succeeded and they lived happily ever after." _

_"That doesn't make any sense."_

_"What do you mean?" _

_"You can't catch a falling star. It would burn up in the atmosphere."_ /

* * *

><p>Emily couldn't breathe. It was such a intense experience that her heart lost the at least relatively steady beat it'd had before. Her chest felt like it'd been about to burst, and her blood turned from ice to lava in a microsecond. Her body couldn't tolerate something like that, not in the state of mind she was in.<p>

And so Emily did the only thing that felt bearable. She dashed out of the room, completely deaf to the voices calling out to her, and stormed forward mindlessly. She didn't snap out of her stupor until she realized that she was in the ladies' room, squeezing the star so hard that it'd pierced her hand from a couple of places. The wounds should've hurt, but she couldn't feel _anything_. Anything but the burning inside her whole body that was driving her insane. In the end she just couldn't take the burning anymore.

She screamed, with absolutely everything there was in her, and threw the star directly at the nearest wall. The inferno inside her exploded, nearly brought her to her knees, when the star shattered to ten stunningly neat pieces that flew everywhere.

Since the day she'd heard of Spencer's death Emily had felt like she'd been living in some sort of a sick nightmare. Now, she was finally waking up. And it _hurt_.

She didn't even notice the bitter tears that leaked down her cheeks while she stood firm, trembling like a leaf about to fall. She'd never felt such fury in her life – it balled in her throat until she was sure she'd suffocate. "Fucking hell, Reid!" she hollered at the ghost lingering in the back of her head. She couldn't recognize her voice. "I… I…!" _I fucking hate you!_, her brain screeched, with such volume that she feared her head wouldn't be able to take it.

At that intense, overwhelming moment she finally noticed it.

The writing. The words written carefully to the pieces of the fallen star. Spencer's final, desperate plea.

'_Case number 7281._

_Please help them, before he finds them, too._'

* * *

><p>Penelope couldn't sleep that night. And finally, at four thirty in the morning, she came to a conclusion that she wouldn't be able to hold herself back any longer.<p>

Carefully making sure that Kevin was still sound asleep she sneaked out of the bed and made her way soundlessly to the computer. Her hand was far from steady when she searched through her bag, finally managing to find Spencer's disc. She swallowed thickly, feeling sick to her stomach, while she looked at the item.

It was highly likely that she wouldn't like what she'd find. But she needed to know, for her sake and Spencer's.

And so she inserted the disc, her heart thumping madly in her throat.

For the longest time nothing happened, and she already wondered if the disc was empty, after all. But then her eyes widened to a dramatic extend as she realized that she was just about to enter a highly classified CIA-file. And then the name jumped right at her face.

'_Neah Leeds_'

"Holy crap!"

She actually jumped and shrieked upon hearing Kevin's voice from behind her. She was too stunned to scold him when she spun towards him.

There was a look of utter shock upon Kevin's sleepy face. The man gulped before looking towards her. "Hotch… He gave me this file, earlier, to see if I'd be able to make any sense to it. I did and… And… Well, I think you should see it."

* * *

><p>Aaron's head wasn't working straigth, and in the end he found himself having a massive headache. That's when he decided to do the one thing that usually gave him peace and quiet. He headed towards his office.<p>

Only this time, fate chose not to grant him any relief. For as soon as he approached the office he noticed that there was someone waiting for him.

William Reid.

The man looked about twenty years older than the last time they met. There was a stone hard look on William's sickly pale face as the man rose from the bench to greet him. "Agent Hotchner." The man's voice sounded unfamiliar. Their eyes clashed. "I understood you'd be here for paperwork today. I… came here to talk to you about my son."

Aaron took a deep breath. Meeting the families of victims was one the worst parts of his job. And this… "I'm truly sorry, for your loss." He grit his teeth, then added something he could've never imagined uttering out loud. "We all miss him."

William's eyes watered for a second before the man blinked it away determinedly and nodded. "I know. But… I didn't come here as his father." The man pulled out a badge – one of the CIA. "I came… to talk, as one unit chief to another."

* * *

><p>'<em>Let us not look back in anger or forward in fear, but around in awareness.<em>'

(James Thurber)

* * *

><p>TBC, or not?<p>

* * *

><p>AN: Sooooo… Uh huh. What, exactly, is going on here? (quirks an eyebrow)

GAH, I've gotta start preparing myself for going to work. (pouts) BUT, first… **PLEASE **leave a review to let me hear out your thoughts! It'd seriously make my day. (gives puppy's eyes)

IN THE NEXT ONE: While the team gets closer and closer to Reid's secrets one of them has a violent clash with what's probably the biggest skeleton in Reid's closet. But it looks like someone is after the exact same thing…

Until next time, folks! I really hope ya'll all join in then.

Take care!

* * *

><p><strong>Avesona23<strong>: My GOSH, how happy you just made me! (beams, and HUGS) Capturing the emotions is one of my absolutely main goals, so I'm absolutely thrilled to hear you think I achieved it.

I really hope the next one will please you just as much!

Massive thank yous for the fantastic review!

* * *

><p><strong>mebemadds<strong>: (beams) I'm thrilled to hear you enjoyed it, hun! I truly hope the update turns out worth the wait.

Colossal thank yous for the review!

* * *

><p><strong>anonymous<strong>: That I'll do! (grins) 'Glad to hear you willing to read more.

Reid's my favorite, too, btw! Although considering how much I put him through, it may be hard to believe… (sweatdrops)

HUGE thank yous for the review!


	4. Bargaining

A/N: Heh, it didn't take me more than a week this time. Yay?

But, first things first. GOSH, thank you so much for all those absolutely amazing reviews! (gasps, then GLOMPS) You can't even imagine how good they made me feel. You guys ROCK, seriously! (hugs again)

Awkay… (takes a deep breath) For one reason or another I'm having insecurities about this chapter, so I'm about to bite the bullet before I'll change my mind. I REALLY hope you'll enjoy the ride!

* * *

><p>'<em>Make your bargain before beginning to plow.<em>'

(Arab proverb)

* * *

><p>Bargaining<p>

* * *

><p> _It was a surprisingly cold morning of December when a eight-year-old Spencer was startled to full alertness by the sounds he heard far too often these days._

_His mom and father… They were fighting. He felt a tight, painful ball forming in his chest as his ears sharpened enough to distinguish the words._

_"_… seen the bruises, William!_"_ _His mother was screeching – he'd never heard her get so mad._ _"_Don't you dare try to tell me that it's only because of those bullies in school. No schoolkid causes injuries like those."

_"_Calm down, Diana._" His father sounded exhausted and irritated. Spencer had learned through wide experience that they weren't a good combination. "_You need to trust me. I'm taking the best possible care of our son – he's safe with me._"_

_"_He'd better be. Or I'll make sure you'll never see him again._"_

_"_I'm his father, Diana. He's my son, too. And with your condition… Do you honestly think you can judge my parenting skills?_"_

_It sounded a lot like someone had been punched or slapped, hard. It took a bit too long before his mom spoke. "_Keep this in mind, William…_"_ _Those words were hissed in a more quiet, dangerous tone Spencer barely caught. "_Spencer is my son, my child. And if I ever find out that he's hurting because of you… I'll kill you myself."

_The fight continued, but at that point Spencer managed to block his ears from it. His eyes felt watery as he glanced downwards, towards the fully functioning gun before him. _

_It'd taken him only a minute to put it together. At that very moment he decided to tell his father that it'd taken five._

_Later that morning his father entered his room and told him in a unreadable tone that his mother needed to go and see Dr. Hinnis again. Spencer had to look away from William's eyes as he told the man that the exercise still took him five minutes._

_"You have a gift, Spencer", his father stated in a stiff tone that chilled him. "Don't let it go to waste." With that the man left the room._

_Spencer had never felt as cold in his life as he did then, with his entire being torn in two._ /

* * *

><p>Derek wasn't entirely sure what drove him to the office that morning. Perhaps he thought that by going there, he'd be able to get at least some normalcy into his life. It turned out to be a disastrous mistake.<p>

The second he walked in memories were circling all around him like hungry vultures, reminding him with bitter force of what was lost.

Spencer… Basically all his life had been in the office. It made sense that it felt like his spirit had been left lingering there.

The sheer power of that thought hit Derek with such force that he shuddered, moisture he hadn't expected filling his eyes. His whole body shook on the verge of breaking down until his mind found something less painful but at least as dangerous to wrap around.

Aaron had forgotten the door of his office open, most likely thinking that no one would be there to see and hear. The unit chief had a expression Derek had never seen before on his deathly pale face. And the man wasn't alone. On the opposite side of the desk, with his back towards the Derek, sat William Reid. Several files that had 'CIA' and 'classified' markings on them had been placed to the desk.

At first sheer shock paralyzed Derek, to a point where he couldn't coax out a single coherent thought. And then he moved, his body doing all the work instead of his mind.

A violent mixture of emotions flashed in Aaron's eyes when he barged into the office without much of knocking. "Morgan?" The unit chief got up, as though preparing himself for something. "What…?"

"The truth, Hotch", he half-hissed through tightly grit teeth before the unit chief had the chance to finish. "The full truth. Or you'll never see me again."

* * *

><p>When Will came home to discover that JJ had asked her mother to babysit Henry and walked out several hours earlier he panicked. Panicked to a point of almost driving himself insane with horrifying mental images of what could've happened. That was until he noticed that something else was also missing.<p>

Aaron had given JJ the key to Spencer's apartment a while ago. It was nowhere to be found. And suddenly Will knew exactly where to go.

The drive to Spencer's apartment took torturously long, and making his way to his door even longer. He frowned and shivered slightly upon discovering that the apartment's door was slightly ajar.

He entered after a brief moment of hesitation, noticing that there were cardboard boxes everywhere. "Jayje? Are you here?" As soon as those words were dropped he saw her. A part of his heart broke at the sight.

JJ was sitting there, leaning against the wall with her knees brought to her chest. She wasn't crying but her eyes were red and puffy. She'd never looked so shattered and vulnerable in his eyes, with all the layers of anger no longer shielding her.

He waited for a moment before daring to whisper. "Are you okay?"

JJ gave him a brief look before casting her eyes elsewhere. "I… I was supposed to empty this apartment – the new tenant's moving in soon. But…" She trailed off.

Will nodded slowly, carefully taking a seat beside her. "I see." He let the silence that followed stretch and linger although it nearly drove him mad.

JJ didn't look at him when she finally spoke, didn't seem to look at anything at all. "I… I don't think I ever told you that we used to visit each other, when…" She swallowed thickly and wiped her eyes roughly. "Whenever things got hard, we visited each other. He… He came often, when you were working late and I was lonely, or worried about Henry. Or when he…" A couple of tears could be seen on her face but she didn't seem to notice them. "Spence, he… He always spoke, a lot. But… During those meetings he really talked. He… showed me the side of him he usually tried to hide – all that scar tissue he tried to cover with a smile." Her breath shuddered and Will would've desperately wanted to hold her, but he knew her well enough to let her finish. It seemed to take forever before she looked at him with shimmering eyes. "He… He was in love, did you know that? He… He never said it out loud, much less told me with whom he was in love, but… I knew. I could see it. And I… was so happy for him. He finally had someone other than the team or his mom he cared about. He… He looked so happy, Will."

Will nodded, finally daring to take the huge risk of speaking out. "That's a good thing. Right?"

JJ's eyes darkened, and for a moment he was sure she'd lash out at him. But instead she leaned against him, resting her head against his shoulder. She was shaking violently. "This… This just doesn't make any sense. I mean… That he's gone, just when…" All words died out.

Will let her sit there for the longest time, leaning heavily against him and gathering herself together once more. It wasn't until she stopped trembling he spoke. "What do you say if we'd do this together?"

At first JJ stiffened, even inched away from him. But after a couple of seconds he saw the faintest of nods. The whisper was so light that it might've been a trick of his imagination – he couldn't even tell if the voice was JJ's or Spencer's. "Thank you."

* * *

><p>Derek had his face buried into his hands, so he couldn't see Aaron's face. But the words made all too much sense.<p>

"Reid… was recognized as gifted when he was just a little boy. Since then he received the best possible training."

"For what?" Derek's voice was dry and barely audible, and shook with everything he was desperately trying to keep under control.

"For becoming a agent. A very valuable one." William Reid's tone was tightly restrained, but the undertones were loudly present to Derek's sharpened ears. There was a pause. "Only a handful of children are chosen for that purpose. It's a rarely spoken matter, for the sake of their safety." The couple of seconds that followed seemed to stretch to all eternity. "Spencer… He learned fast, faster than we could've ever hoped for. No amount of knowledge was too much for him. He was only a child when he could already assemble a gun. Learning how to shoot took a little longer, but when he came to think of taking physics and math into account it was child's play."

Derek frowned, finally looking up. His eyes clashed with William's. "That doesn't make any sense. Reid… He failed his qualification."

William gave him a wry smile. "You see… Creating diversions was always Spencer's speciality." The man grit his teeth, hard, and looked away. "As soon as Spencer turned eighteen the CIA could officially accept him as one of the agents. He spent only a little over a year there, until he learned that I was his other unit chief. He resigned immediately. But he'd been prepared for becoming a agent since he was a little child – he lost his way, his purpose. That was until his path collided with Jason Gideon." The man took a deep breath before meeting his eyes again. "It took years, before he actually spoke to me again. In less than six months I managed to persuade him into accepting CIA-assignments as well, in complete secrecy. Our agency was in a desperate need of a agent like him. He turned out to be everything we hoped for." Suddenly William's expression changed, became something unreadable. There was a yet another pause. "And then… he met Neah Leeds. She was a extremely important witness against her father, Waylon Leeds. Later she became one of our agents."

Derek frowned, folding his arms. He felt dizzy and out of breath – it was impossible to keep his thoughts from tangling. How the _hell_ could someone do that to their own son? "Why are you telling us this now?"

"Because a while ago Waylon escaped from custody. We'd almost managed to catch him, when…" William's face turned stone hard, and it took a while before the man managed to speak. "Even though we already lost Spencer, there's still hope left for someone else. And… I think that's what Spencer's been trying to tell you – I've heard of the mementos he left behind."

At Derek's confused, demanding expression Aaron stepped in. The man placed a file to the table before him. "At first this was empty, until Lynch came to think of using lemon juice. It revealed hidden writing."

Derek looked down, curiosity and something else burning in the pit of his stomach. What he found was Neah's name and an address, written in Spencer's handwriting.

Derek's blood burned.

"We gave her a new identity, but Spencer was the one responsible for arranging a safehouse for her. He never trusted the CIA enough to reveal where she was hiding, but… He knew you'd find that clue – that you'd be able to find _her_ before it's too late. We have a reason to believe that her location has been compromised." Did William… come close to giving him a sad smile? "My son… He trusted you all, with his life. And… Now, I need to trust you, too."

Whatever little restraints there'd been in Derek disappeared completely. In a flash he was up, the address he'd just seen burning his mind like acid. He was deaf to Aaron's voice telling him to wait as he stormed out of the office.

He'd already wasted too much time – his, Spencer's, Neah's. Now it was finally time to actually do something. So he pulled out his cell phone and dialed numbers.

* * *

><p>Aaron's eyes were hard as he stared at the door Derek had just slammed shut, a torturous burning sensation spreading all the way through him.<p>

He'd already lost one member of his team – _family_. Even the thought of losing another…

"Waylon isn't stupid and careless, agent Hotchner." William's voice managed to snatch him back from those thoughts. The man's eyes held a great deal of sadness. "You need to trust your team, the same way Spencer did. And you need to trust yourself." The man looked away, clearly seeing something he couldn't. "Spencer… He talked about you, a couple of times. I can tell how much this team meant to him. And…" The man swallowed thickly, his eyes narrowing. "I… was never much of a father. And Gideon… He wasn't strong enough to take over that duty. But you…" Finally their eyes met. "You never failed him, agent Hotchner. So trust yourself, like he still does."

Aaron realized that he couldn't think of anything to say to that, so he squeezed his lips tightly together. So subtly that William couldn't see it his hand slid to his pocket, where the one thing Spencer left for him to the box lay.

Spencer's badge. The solid signature of everything the genius was and held dear.

His hand squeezed around the item with a desperate force, like a part of him had still been trying to hold on to Spencer.

He squeezed and kept holding on even when his fingers began to grow numb, hoping and praying that they wouldn't betray the trust Spencer had showed them.

* * *

><p>Wind slashed Derek's face like knives as he sat in a already darkening, isolated park, his unseeing eyes cast towards something that flashed only inside his head. His whole body trembled while he balled his fists, so tightly that it hurt. To spare some of his dignity he wanted to believe that the stinging sensation in his eyes was caused by the wind.<p>

All those years Spencer had led a secret life – a life his own father had pushed him into.

He couldn't even imagine how lonely Spencer must've felt, with those closest to him knowing only one half on him. Not to mention exhausted. Suddenly Derek understood perfectly why Spencer looked so very tired most of the time.

He really, really wished Spencer hadn't chosen to keep them in the dark when it came to this other life. He wished, from the bottom of his heart, that Spencer would've been able to let them help – to let them try and save his life.

And he really, really wished – so hard it burned – that Spencer would still be…

"Morgan?" Emily's voice startled him so badly that he shuddered violently. There was a frown on her tired face as she approached him. "Where the heck is your jacket? It's freezing out here."

Instead of responding he gave her a evaluating look. "Are you sober?"

She scoffed. "After that phone call of yours, I sure as hell am." She swallowed thickly, clearly fighting to decide if she wanted to know or not. "Were you… serious, about all that stuff?"

It was Derek's turn to give her a far from impressed look. "Do you honestly think I'd make up stuff like that?"

Emily inhaled sharply. And suddenly there was no hesitation in her eyes as they darkened, became such he didn't recognize. Her jaw tightened as they came to a soundless decision.

Spencer… He'd left behind something that was still a mystery to them – he'd died protecting it, they both now knew. Now it was their turn to try and protect it, to make sure that they hadn't lost a precious member of their family for nothing. Maybe that way they'd be able to save a tiny piece of Spencer as well.

"You're driving", Emily announced.

* * *

><p>Although Penelope was so exhausted that she could barely keep her eyes open her mind wouldn't rest. Each time she tried – every single time she even closed her damn eyes – flashes of Spencer's face filled her head. And so, instead of losing herself into the storm of memories and emotions she wasn't ready to face yet, she decided to do something productive.<p>

The night before Emily showed up at her doorsteps at two in the morning, clearly heavily drunk. When she demanded what was going on the woman only asked her to investigate what she could find out about case number 7281. And then, faster than Penelope could take a proper breath, the brunette disappeared like a ghost.

Unable to contain herself although Kevin was already afraid for her sanity Penelope got to work – only to slam right into a encrypted file. No matter how many tricks she pulled she couldn't circle around the password. After what felt like a eternity of trying she felt ready to burst into tears of sheer frustration.

That was until a flash of the butterfly collection Spencer had left for JJ appeared to her head, as clear as a polaroid shot. Penelope's eyes widened to a dramatic extend.

Could it really be…?

Well, she thought while staring at the screen and the words 'access denied' sneering back at her, she didn't exactly have anything to lose. And so she chose a entirely new route. The fifth language finally gave the desired response.

'_Papillon_'.

Words flashed on the screen, so fast that she was getting a headache. For a chilling moment she was _sure_ that instead of finally finding the password she'd done permanent damage. But then all froze, leaving only words that took a moment to make sense.

The full story of Neah Leeds was right there, before her eyes.

She dropped the mug of coffee she'd been holding. "Holy cow…!"

* * *

><p>A tiny, extremely scruffy motel room reeked of death as the door was pushed open with a loud screech, letting in a man who introduced himself as '<em>John Doe<em>' upon arrival.

The room was absolutely filthy, Waylon Leeds could tell even without turning on any lights, and he was almost sure he heard rats. But he didn't mind – this place would serve its purpose just fine. After all, he wasn't looking for a nice new home. All he needed was a place where no one asked unnecessary questions.

The man's moves were calm and utterly controlled as he put down his small bag, then sat down to the edge of his dangerously unsteady bed and took a glance towards the bottle of Scottish held in his scarred hand. He hesitated for only a second before opening the bottle and taking a long, savouringsip. He closed his eyes while the drink burned on its way down.

He hadn't had a single mouthfull of Scottish since Neah. It was only befitting, to treat himself with some now that he was on his way to her.

He emitted a slightly amused sound, tilting his head.

He still remembered the blue butterfly hairpin Neah had in her hair when they last met. She always did have a thing for butterflies. He wondered keenly what she'd look like when he'd come to see her now.

Ah, she must've known to expect him – especially after his… incident with agent Reid. He could tell his voice had been whispering into her ear every single night.

/ _"I swear to you, you little bitch… I will get out of here, you'll see. And when I do I'll gutt you with my own bare hands. I'll make you scream until you choke on your own blood."_ /

That was what he said to her when they last met. It'd taken him longer than he'd expected, but he was about to stay true to his word.

He'd never failed to keep a promise. And he wasn't about to start now.

* * *

><p>About half an hour later the street that traveled by a old, easily ignored block of flats was empty as Derek parked his car. He frowned upon looking at the building. Impatience and determination flashed in the man's eyes. "So… Are you ready to go in?"<p>

Emily felt electricity sparkling inside her as she nodded, taking a breath to steel herself. "Let's get go and get her."

Neither of them spoke as they left the car – blissfully unaware of the fact that only seconds later Emily's cell phone came to life inside the vehicle, Penelope's name flashing on the screen.

They climbed up the stairs to the third floor, until they saw a familiar name on one door.

'_Allison Hudson_'.

Derek frowned once more. "Are sure that this is the right place?"

Emily couldn't undestand the sensation that went through her – a mixture of cold and warmth that tingled on her skin. She felt her pupils dilate. "Yeah", she breathed out. "I am."

Derek nodded and counted down from three with his fingers, then kicked the door so hard that it flew open. There was no one in the apartment.

Their steps were soundless as they made their way through the door and into the extremely dimly lit apartment. There was barely any furniture – only the exact items necessary for everyday living, clearly picked out hastily. There was no _soul_ in the apartment, no personal touch.

Emily tried to ignore the cold shivers going through her body. Of course she'd known to expect that a safehouse would be like this, but that didn't make the hollow apartment any less chilling.

Besides, where was the inhabitant?

She shuddered slightly when feeling a light touch on her shoulder, and calmed down only as she lifted her gaze to meet Derek's stone hard face. The man gestured with his fingers, giving clear instructions of the two of them splitting, and she nodded, taking a even tighter hold of her gun. With that they kept advancing without a sound, Derek moving towards the living room and kitchen, she moving towards what she suspected was a bedroom. She made it about five steps from the room until she heard it.

Quiet, heartbreaking whimpering. Most definitely that of a baby.

Cold sped through Emily's veins while pieces started to collide in her buzzing head. She swallowed thickly, then regained her mobility and completed her journey. The bedroom's door was already slightly ajar, and made a faint screech as she pushed it gently all the way open. Emily shuddered upon facing the sight. There, placed against the wall, was a crib.

Emily was fairly sure that her heart skipped a beat, and she couldn't keep a small gasp from crawling through her throat. Her body reacted instinctively. Before she could secure the room she'd already sped towards the crib and looked inside.

In the crib lay a very, very beautiful baby-girl with a lot of dark-brown hair and brown eyes. As soon as she saw her the baby stopped crying, instead flashed her a bright smile and reached out a pair of tiny arms towards her.

Emily never had the chance to respond. Because just then she heard movement from behind her, and a flash later cold steel was pressed against the back of her skull. "Drop your gun and step away from my baby, or I'll shoot a hole into your head", a female voice hissed at her.

* * *

><p>'<em>It's just as unpleasant to get more than you bargain for as to get less<em>.'

(George Bernard Shaw)

* * *

><p>TBC, right?<p>

* * *

><p>AN: Oh dear… It looks like the mess keeps thickening, eh? (sweatdrops)

GAH, I've really gotta get going soon. (pouts) BUT, first… **PLEASE,** leave a review to let me know your thoughts on this story! It'd seriously mean a lot to me. (gives puppy's eyes) Pwease…?

IN THE NEXT ONE: Along with Neah, even more secrets are revealed. One particular one shocks the team to the core. As Waylon approaches the final stages of facing Spencer's nightmare are drawing close…

Until next time, folks! I REALLY hope I'll c ya all then.

Peace out!

* * *

><p><strong>Avesona23<strong>: Awww, you had be smiling over here! Such kind words. (beams and hugs)

You can't even imagine how much it means to me to hear that you think I managed to capture the emotions. It's something I always put under a miscroscope. No messing with characters you're borrowing. (grins)

The poor team, no? (sighs) And poor Reid, too. It looks like he tried with his all to leave behind clues and words of comfort. We'll see how everything turns out with the next chapter(s).

And CIA is showing up! Oh boy… What the heck is going on? (Oh, yeah… I guess I should be the one who knows, eh?)

TONS of thank yous for the absolutely amazing review! I really hope the story still to come won't disappoint you, either.

ps: Awww, don't worry! I LOVE reviews in all shapes and sizes. (grins) It means a lot to hear that you don't mind the occasional gaps. The damn real life gets in the way sometimes. (groans)


	5. Depression

A/N: I'm so sorry that it took this long to update – again. (winces) My head's been… out of whack, I guess, lately. Which means that writing's been extremely sticky. (groans) BUT, at very least, I'm finally back with a new chapter. Hooray…?

Thank you so much for those fantastic reviews, guys! (glomps) They mean more than you could ever imagine – this chapter would've never been created without them. So thank you! You guys are really, really precious.

Awkay… (takes a deep breath) I guess it's time to go, eh? I REALLY hope this one turns out worth the wait!

* * *

><p>'<em>Depression is rage spread thin.<em>'

(George Santayana)

* * *

><p>Depression<p>

* * *

><p> _The day he first left the CIA at the grand age of nineteen Spencer swore that he'd never, ever go back. Not with his father as his other unit chief._

_Fate, however, has the habit of sweeping us off our feet from time to time. And years, a lifetime, later that's what happened to Spencer one chilling day of late autumn. The doors were heavier than he'd remembered as he walked in, his eyes scanning through the huge building._

_He recognized none of the people he saw, and judging by their looks they didn't know who he was, either. And the place had changed a great deal. But the scent… The scent was still the same, as was the essence wrapping around him._

_Spencer felt disgust swelling in his stomach and cold traveling through his veins._

_He should've known coming back would be a huge mistake. He should've known that…_

_He turned sharply – too sharply. For before he could do a thing to stop it he collided with something, or perhaps someone, so hard that he stumbled backwards. A gigantic pile of files flew on him, the papers in them scattering all over like some kind of a strange snowfall._

_"I… I'm so sorry!" he sputtered. "I wasn't…" He looked up to see the person he'd almost walked over – and suddenly he couldn't produce a syllable. Even a single piece of facts or statistics refused to enter his head. _

_There was a woman of about his age stood before him. Her blonde hair that fell well past her shoulders appeared messy, like she'd just walked in a wind. There was a mixture of irritation, amusement and curiosity in her blue eyes. "Do you think you could help me pick these up?" she finally asked him._

_Heat rose to his cheeks while he moved rapidly to help her, muttering something he hoped sounded at least close to "Sorry"._

_And then, faster than he'd anticipated, they were done. Supporting the files with one arm, the woman held out a hand for him. There was a dimple on her right cheek, he noticed. "Neah Leeds", she introduced herself._

_It took far longer than it should've before he managed to take her hand. It felt soft and a great deal cooler than his. "Dr. Spencer Reid." It was a miracle he managed to say that without stuttering._

_At that very second it became clear that things would never be the same again._

_Sometimes – just sometimes – a single touch is enough to push our entire fate from its planned path._ /

* * *

><p>There were grim looks on the faces of Aaron and David as they stared at the computer screen, where Neah's information screamed back at them.<p>

She was five when court ordered her custody to her father. She was eight when she heard strange noises from their barn and went to investigate. She saw five tortured, battered and bloodied women there. That night she watched how her father killed every single one of them. She was nine when her testimony sent her father to prison. She was twenty-one when the CIA recruited her, impressed by her performance during her training. It was only a few years later her path crossed Dr. Spencer Reid's, and they were assigned as partners. It wasn't much later she became a mother, to a child who's father was never recorded. A few more years later her father escaped, as did Neah Leeds – Spencer helped her vanish from the face of the planet.

She was the missing link they'd been looking for. The one who knew the side of Spencer they never got the chance to see. If only they'd get the chance to ask the questions…

"I… I can't get a held of Morgan or Prentiss", Penelope announced in a far from steady voice, panic visible in her eyes. "I know they've found her, but…" Her voice faded out.

Aaron's eyes darkened as a weight settled to his chest. It was a miracle he managed to keep his face even. "Keep trying to contact them", he ordered through his teeth.

As Penelope focused on the phone once more David spoke, so quietly that the blonde wouldn't hear. "Aaron… This is a mother we're talking about – a mother in a extreme situation, trying to protect herself and her child." The man's eyes radiated the same things that were spinning inside him. "There's no telling what she'll do when two strangers barge into her safehouse."

Aaron grit his teeth, focusing on the computer once more. Even from a distance he could hear that Penelope's call was directed to a voicemail.

Silence had never been as heavy as it was then.

* * *

><p>If there was one thing Emily had always been good at dealing with, it was fear. And even at that extreme moment, with a gun pressed against her skull and her heart hammering madly close to her throat, her expression didn't waver.<p>

Her movements were slow, soft and controlled while she allowed her own gun to drop and raised her hands, so that the woman behind her could see them. "I'm a FBI-agent – my badge and ID are in my right jacket pocket. My name is Emily Prentiss."

"Emily Prentiss?" Something in the other woman's voice changed. Carefully and swiftly the woman searched for her badge and ID, then gave them a long look. It seemed to take a small eternity before the gun was pulled away, and even longer before the woman finally spoke. "Spencer… He talked about you all, a lot." Emily could tell the other tried to hide it, but her ears easily caught the shiver of ache in the woman's voice. "He said that if anything happened, he'd try to send you. That he trusts you with his life – and ours."

Slowly, wondering if she was already allowed to move, Emily turned around to face the stranger. She didn't have to ask who the other was.

Neah's stance was clearly stiff, told that one wrong movement might still trigger an attack. The woman's eyes were smouldering. It took long before Emily realized how short Neah actually was – at least half a head shorter than she.

Neah's dark brown eyes were sharp and filled with a visible degree of mistrust while Emily took a breath, then spoke. "Reid… left us some clues, leading to you. We know of your father." She then frowned, a hint of cold traveling through her. The apartment was utterly quiet – too quiet. "Where's Morgan? He's the agent I came with."

Neah's eyebrow bounced up. "_That's_ Derek Morgan?" The redhead's facial muscles relaxed slightly. "Your entrance wasn't exactly subtle. I was waiting for him in the living room. Don't worry. The worst he'll get is a headache and some scratches to his ego."

Emily nodded slowly, this all getting way over her head. To be honest she was getting a headache, too. This was not a good day to be suffering from a hangover.

Just then the baby started whimpering. At that moment Emily's eyes clashed with Neah's. And a shiver went through her. "That baby… She's yours?"

Neah nodded slowly, something Emily couldn't even start to read appearing to her eyes. "She's DeAnna." The readhead's jaw tightened for a moment, as though the woman had struggled to hold down something. "It looks like we have a lot to talk about."

* * *

><p>The instant Will woke up from light sleep to discover that JJ wasn't beside him in the bed his thoughts began to spin a million miles per hour. He moved far faster than his head would've approved while getting out of the bed and heading out of the room. "Jayje?" he called out, careful not to disturb Henry who was sleeping in a nearby room. There was no response.<p>

For several endlessly long moments his mind reeled with shock while his heart thumped furiously, panic taking over his entire being. That was until he heard the shower.

Frowning, he headed towards the bathroom. A sigh of exhaustion, heartbreak, misery and slight anger left him as he faced what was waiting for him there.

JJ had, apparently, thought about taking a shower. But she'd never made it quite that far. She was sitting on the shower cabinet's floor with her eyes closed, shivering like a leaf while water washed over all of her.

It took several moments before Will managed to function. His hand shook while he took a towel, then walked all the way to the shower and turned it off. "Hey", he whispered while wrapping the towel around the clearly freezing woman. "What are you doing?"

The his great surprise JJ actually responded. She shook her head, wiping her cheeks vehemently with a unsteady hand. "I… I don't know. I have no idea anymore." She looked at him, appearing more scared than he'd ever seen her. "I can't think. I can't… I can't even sleep anymore. Tonight I was… I was so confused that I really thought Spence was there. I could _hear_ him, and…" She gulped, appearing slightly nauseous, and shook her head. "That… That's not healthy, Will. I know it's not."

For the longest time Will had absolutely no idea how to react, what to say to something so surreal. In the end he followed his instincts. He wrapped his arms around the blonde, as tightly as he dared to, and pulled her close. "It'll be okay, I promise", he whispered, as though afraid he'd disturb someone. Without him even noticing it one of his hands started rubbing soothing circles to her back. "We'll get you help. We'll get you all the help you need, together. Everything's going to be okay."

In his arms JJ remained still and absolutely quiet. But the way her fingers clung to him told him everything he needed to know.

This moment itself was absolutely horrible, tore his heart to tiny pieces. But somewhere amongst it hope lingered. This was the closest she'd let him since Spencer's death. So maybe now, finally, things could get better.

One day.

Neither of them noticed how JJ's cell-phone started to ring several rooms away.

* * *

><p>After the fifth attempt it became apparent to Aaron that JJ wouldn't pick up the phone. Trying to smother the nagging alarm inside him he focused on the group gathered to the conference room.<p>

Derek appeared dangerously pale while holding a ice pack to his head, but Aaron suspected it had nothing to do with the injury. David and Emily didn't appear any less shocked. Penelope's eyes were red and puffy, and it looked like she wasn't too far from tears. To be fair, Aaron wasn't any less rattled. Not after what Neah Leeds had just spoken out.

Neah's voice filled the shocked silence. "Since I was a child, most people seemed to label me as the 'poor little girl who saw her father kill five women'. As the daughter of Boston's Butcher. But Spencer… He was different. It felt intoxicating, to be around someone as innocent as him." She offered her finger to her daughter, and grinned when the child held on tight. "I really hope DeAnna takes after her daddy."

"So… The baby…" Derek blinked once with what looked like disbelief. "She's really Reid's?"

Neah nodded, a tiny, sad smile appearing to her lips. She stroked her daughter's cheek, causing the child to emit a very satisfied sound. "We… were together. In secrecy, of course – we would've both been fired if the relationship would've been discovered. I found out I was pregnant just before the anthrax disaster." She seemed to notice their slightly worried looks because she went on. "I was already listed as his next of kin, so the hospital had to notify me. I refused to stop asking questions until he'd told me everything. The day he was discharged I showed him the very first picture of DeAnna. He was there when she was born." Grief filled her eyes and she bit her teeth together so tightly it must've hurt. "DeAnna… She was only two months old when we found out that my father had escaped, and I had to… disappear." She lifted her left hand to move a strayed strand of hair behind her ear. It wasn't until then they noticed the ring there. Steel filled her eyes. "They… They said that Spencer killed himself, but he didn't. He would've never, ever tossed away the chance to see his daughter again. And I know my father. He'll remove every single obstacle there's on his way of getting to me."

Aaron felt like his heart had been torn to pieces as guilt ravished him. He should've _known_. He should've…

He was grateful David spoke so he didn't have to. "What are you going to do?"

Neah grit her teeth again. "I can't stop running until he's been caught." The sadness in her eyes they'd seen before grew tenfold as she looked at her daughter. "And this time… This time, I'll have to run alone. For her sake." Her eyes were pleading, desperate, when she focused on them. "Spencer… He told me a lot about you, and… I don't trust anyone in the CIA enough to let them look after my child for me. But I trust you."

"We'll keep her safe", Derek promised before the question was even spoken. There was a stern look in the man's eyes. "I'll keep her safe. I promise."

To their surprise Neah smiled. "I know you will. Thank you."

There were lots of questions they would've wanted to ask her, a lot of things that would've needed answers and explanations. But before they got the chance to go any further there was a knock on the room's door. In a moment the door was opened, revealing a stone faced man of Aaron's age with shortcut dark brown hair and sharp gray eyes. "Agent Leeds? It's time to go."

They all frowned, instantly alarmed. A look of sadness and desperation flashed on Neah's face. "Already?" Seeing the looks on their faces she seemed to notice the need to explain. "This is agent Jared Nash, from CIA's witnes protection unit. He's been in charge over my… case since my father escaped."

"Agent Leeds." A mixture of irritation and agitation could be seen on agent Nash's face. "I'm afraid we have to go, now."

Neah nodded, agony clearly visible on her face. "I know, I know." Aaron couldn't look away although he would've desperately wanted to while Neah leaned over DeAnna, wiping her cheeks furiously as she whispered something to the child and kissed the baby's forehead. Flashbacks of Haley he would've much rather not faced filled his mind as he looked at the expression that lingered on Neah's face when she forced herself to take one step away from her child, then another, then more until she was almost out of the room.

This was the hardest thing she'd ever done in her life, he knew. He would've given a lot if he'd been able to tell her honestly that it was going to be okay.

Just before leaving the room Neah looked at them once more, wiping her eyes. "You should know… Spencer really, truly loved you all – you were his family, his home. It was killing him to keep secrets from you." She tried to smile. "He was lucky to have you." With that she was gone.

As soon as the room's door was closed DeAnna broke into heartbreaking tears. Aaron wanted very much to do the same, to scream until there was no air in his lungs. But he didn't. Instead he made his way to the child and took the baby into his arms. It took about five minutes before DeAnna finally stopped crying, instead fell into exhausted sleep in his arms.

Aaron wished the cries inside him had been soothed as easily.

* * *

><p>David Rossi wasn't a man who liked to show his emotions openly. Any of his ex-wives could prove that. But that endless night his face didn't remain expressionless as he stayed in the bullpen after everyone else left soundlessly, leaving a air of sorrowful silence behind them. Instead of the front door his feet led him towards a desk that'd remained unoccupied for much too long.<p>

'_SSA Dr. Spencer Reid_', said the nameplate that hadn't been taken away yet.

He pulled in a breath that seemed to choke him, and barely managed to swallow it. His throat felt scratchy as he nearly whispered. "I'm sorry, kid." No one spoke, but he could've sworn that he wasn't alone anymore. Wishful thinking, perhaps, but in his opinion that was hell a lot better than _nothing_. "I'm sorry that we didn't believe in you more. That we didn't see a thing." He wondered if anyone else had ever truly apologized to Spencer. It was high time someone started.

Not that it would've made much difference anymore.

There was a million words on his tongue, but they became tangled and blurry.

He wished he could've told Spencer that one day, they'd catch the guy who did this. That he'd make sure the team would get through this. That he'd let DeAnna know who her father was. That he really, really missed those facts and statistics that once made his head hurt. That the silence Spencer left behind was killing him – them all.

But it appeared he was a weak man, because he couldn't speak out any of those things. He hoped from the bottom of his heart that Spencer knew anyway.

Suddenly regaining mobility he searched through his pockets, in a moment finding what he'd been looking for. His moves were abnormally stiff as he approached the desk, then set down the item he'd brought alone.

It was Spencer's 'ten months clean' coin, which he'd found taped to the book the genius left him.

His throat felt blocked, but he spoke out anyhow. "Don't tell the others…", he murmured, brushing the coin with his hand. "… but you were one of strongest men I've known. Stronger than I am."

He didn't know how long he'd stood there until he felt a definite presence. Glancing over his shoulder with mild surprise he discovered Emily stood a slight distance away. He felt tempted to ask how much she'd seen and heard but in the end decided that it didn't really matter.

She didn't touch him, nor did she offer a single word of comfort that would've probably made him grimace anyway. Instead she walked closer, not even really looking at him, and eventually stood directly beside him.

(They spent the rest of the night there in a sombre silence, neither able to ignore the fact that it felt like there'd been three of them. It was the first night in ages neither of them drowned on alcohol and bitter thoughts.)

* * *

><p>Several hours later Penelope still didn't feel like going home and getting sleep – she was far too filled with adrenaline and something else to do that. So, instead, she entered the building's temporary nursery. What she found made her heart swell and break at the same time.<p>

There, in the security of the night, Derek had taken tiny DeAnna into his arms. She couldn't hear the words, but from the way Derek's lips moved she could tell he was whispering something to the baby. At first she didn't recognize the look there was in his eyes, but then it struck her with such force that she shuddered and felt her eyes water a little.

He'd only ever looked at Spencer that way.

She was just leaving, feeling like she'd been intruding something private. But just then Derek seemed to sense her presence and lifted his gaze. Their eyes met.

It took forever before she found her voice, her gaze straying towards the by then sleeping baby. "I… I still can't believe he had a daughter."

At those words Derek's eyes changed, and for the slightest moment she was almost sure she saw tears. "She looks a lot like him", the man stated, so quietly that she barely heard.

Penelope nodded, swallowing thickly. "I know."

She couldn't tell if Derek had even heard her as the man went on. "I offered to keep her, until this entire nightmare is over."

Penelope nodded again, then took the huge risk of speaking. "I'm sure Reid would appreciate it." She glanced towards Derek's face, futilely trying to read the expression there. "I don't think he could've trusted anyone more."

It took a while before she noticed the at first subtle, then dramatic changes. At first Derek's jaw tightened, then the man's eyes filled with something she'd never seen before. For a while she thought he might lash out at her, but then he lifted one of his hands to shield his face and bowed his head. It took long before she realized that his shoulders were quaking, and even longer before she understood what was happening.

At that very moment her heart broke in her chest.

It was the first time since Spencer's death Derek shed actual tears.

* * *

><p>In the meantime Neah frowned as agent Nash parked his car outside a rather old apartment building. "I wasn't aware that we have a safehouse here", she pointed out.<p>

"This is a new one." Agent Nash seemed to avoid her eyes. "Let's go inside."

She nodded slowly, a frown appearing to her face while she unbuckled her seatbelt and abandoned the vehicle. No words were spoken as they both secured the environment, then entered the building and climbed up to the second floor.

Agent Nash's hand didn't seem entirely steady when he opened a door, clearly forcing himself to look at her. His eyes held a strange look. "This is the place."

For some reason Neah felt the need to reach out for her gun while following the male agent inside. Exactly two seconds after agent Nash had closed the door she finally noticed it. The scent in the air, the slightly wrinkled carpet, the way the man beside her kept swallowing and looking around with wild eyes…

They weren't alone.

She frowned, instinctively taking a step towards the door. Her entire body prepared for a fight while adrenaline flowed through. "What the hell is going on?"

Agent Nash's eyes were wide with terror while the man swallowed convulsively. "I… I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. If I had the choice…"

"Oh, but you did have a choice." The male voice made her entire body turn colder than any ice. "To lose her, or to lose your son. I'd call that a choice."

Neah turned slowly, reluctantly. What she found was ripped straigth from her nightmares.

Her father stood there in the shadows, looking at her with those blue eyes that'd never quite stopped haunting her. There was a heart shaped scar on his forehead – the one she'd given him, in another lifetime – and he appeared decades older than the last time they met. But otherwise… He hadn't changed a bit. Time has little affect on monsters, it seemed.

The man smiled at her, revealing a row of yellowish teeth. "My goodness, Neah… It'd been a long time. You've changed a lot."

Shock paralyzed Neah, struck out all breath and every coherent thought.

Agent Nash, on the other hand, seemed to be slightly more functional. "You promised to leave my son alone", the man reminded in a tense, quivering voice.

Her father's eyes flashed while meeting the agent's. Clearly the monster knew that he had the upper hand. "Yes. I did." Out of nowhere a gun appeared, became pointed directly towards agent Nash. "You, on the other hand… are a entirely different story." Before the echo of those words faded properly the weapon was fired. With the silencer on a sickening sound was heard, followed by a far more chilling one when the bullet slammed into Nash's skull. A shiver went through Neah as she watched the man fall.

A couple of seconds – or was it years? – passed before her father chose to speak. "Now, there's no one interrupting us." The man looked at her, long and hard, tilting his head. He licked his lips. "My gosh, Neah… You've grown up."

Rage, such she'd never experienced before, rushed through Neah. Her eyes narrowed while she lifted her chin and grit her teeth. "I have. I've grown up past the fear I felt for you."

Her skin crawled while her father nodded, a sickening calm look on his face. "I knew to expect that, sweetie." He clicked his tongue, lifting his gun against her. "You gave me a scar and had me locked up. I already promised I'd make you pay for that."

As she stared at the gun Neah registered that she did feel fear, but it was just a numb sensation nagging in the back of her skull. Spencer, and DeAnna… Her mind was with them.

She remembered his smile.

She remembered the taste of coffee on his lips.

She remembered the scent on his skin as they laid naked in bed, both only inches from falling asleep.

She remembered the way he used to kiss the top of her head in the shadows of the night and how he pulled her close to him afterwards, when he thought she was already asleep.

She remembered his proposal, each letter of it scattered to the pages of her favorite book.

She remembered the way he looked at DeAnna when their daughter was born, how she'd never loved him as much as she did then.

She remembered his voice, singing softly to their daughter until the baby fell asleep.

She remembered how DeAnna felt in her arms.

She remembered how the little girl first opened her eyes and looked at her, those eyes filled with trust and recognition.

She remembered, better than anything, the absolute love she felt for them both.

And suddenly it was easy to feel warm.

She reached out for her gun the exact same second her father lifted his.

* * *

><p>'<em>They say they don't know when but a day is gonna come. When there won't be a moon and there won't be a sun. It will just go black. It will just go back to the way it was before.<em>'

(Conor Oberst)

* * *

><p>TBC, right?<p>

* * *

><p>AN: (winces) Poor Neah, I guess. And poor team. But at least it's all starting to get clearer, now. And awww, Reid as a daddy… (grins) Just too cute to resist.

**PLEASE, **let me know your thoughts about this chapter! It'd seriously mean A LOT, especially since I'm starting to work on the final bits and pieces of this fic. (casts puppy looks) Pwease…? Don't abandon this lil' thing now that it's almost at 'the end'.

IN THE NEXT ONE (ya wanna see it, no…?): Decisions are made and the painful proces of healing finally begins as the stages of grief reach 'Acceptance'. What happens to Neah and DeAnna? Will the team finally catch the man who stole away a member of their family?

Until next time, folks! I really hope I'll see ya guys again.

Take care!

* * *

><p><strong>Avesona23<strong>: First off, I'm THRILLED to hear you like the flashbacks! I wasn't sure about putting them in at first, but now I have no regrets. (grins)

AND, I'm absolutely overjoyed to hear you enjoy all those character bits so! I can't help it; my brain just threw their stories and feelings out like that. We'll see just how long the road to things getting better is for each of them… (winces)

(grins) Reid as a CIA agent… Now there's a HOT thought, eh? (sighs and sinks into daydreams)

As for the ending… Gah, the cliffies are back! (groans) But, we'll see just what secrets the next chapter shall unfold…

HUGE thank yous for the absolutely amazing review! I truly hope the next one pleases you as much.

ps: Oh hun, no worries! I'M sorry for the incredibly late update. (winces and hands over a cookie as well)


	6. Acceptance

A/N: I'm FINALLY back on track. My head can be a REALLY annoying thing sometimes. (groans and winces) I'm so, so sorry about the delay! I HATE making you guys wait. (pouts)

BUT, first… Thank you so much for those fantastic reviews! (glomps) They're really, truly precious to me, ya know? They gave me the kick on the butt I needed to get this chapter done. So thank you!

Awkay… (takes a deep breath) Now, it's time to jump on with the story, no? I REALLY hope this turns out worth the wait!

* * *

><p>'<em>Understanding is the first step to acceptance, and only with acceptance can there be recovery.<em>'

(Joanne Kathleen Rowling)

* * *

><p>Acceptance<p>

* * *

><p> _Some people claim that there's a way for us to know when our time to go has come. Spencer had never believed in that. Not until the day of his death._

_It was almost morning as he entered his home, instantly switching on the small lamp placed close to his door. Deep in thought he dropped his jacket and headed towards the kitchen, his entire being screaming out for coffee._

_That was until he noticed the scent that didn't belong into his apartment._

_Honey, and cinnamon. Neah told him, once in the darkest hours of the night, that her father always held that scent._

_Spencer's blood froze to his veins. And then he moved, hurrying the preparations. Finally he wrote down a hasty note – desperate words of warning – then left as fast as he could._

_Before she went underground, Neah and Spencer agreed on a place where they could leave messages for each other. It was a bridge on which they'd stood at the end of their very first date, observing how water streamed below in a endless flow. For obvious reasons that place wasn't used often, but in Spencer's opinion tonight was definitely a case of emergency._

_He was just fastening the note to where no passer-by could see it when he caught the scent once more, soon followed by a realization that he wasn't alone. His hold on the piece of paper went slack. Wind caught the note, carrying it along without a hint of mercy._

_He heard the sound of a gun's safety being released at the exact time Waylon Leeds spoke. "You can't even imagine how long it took before I found out that you're the one responsible for hiding my daughter." The man clicked his tongue. "Jesus, kid… I can't believe you're a agent."_

_Spencer straightened his form slowly, then turned to face the other man. The look in Waylon's eyes made him shiver slightly, and his mouth turned painfully dry. He lifted his hands although he already knew it'd be of no use. "I'm not going to let you find her."_

_Waylon smiled like a predator that had its pray cornered. "Yes, you are. Because if you won't…" The gun was pointed directly at his head. "… I won't hesitate going after that team of yours – one member after another, until you give me what I want." And then, faster than he could even blink, the man was stood before him. He only noticed a slight jab of pain until he realized that there was a small amount of blood on his forehead, where the man just struck._

_Waylon smiled, showing him a large ring that had some droplets of blood on it. "My daughter… She used to have one like this, until she became unworthy of it." The man pointed towards his own forehead, where a heart shaped scar could be seen despite the lack of light. "She gave me this, you see. She should've known I won't let such go unpunished." The gun was pointed at him once more. "Now… Give me the location, or I won't hesitate to show you how serious I am about punishments. It's the lives of your team members in the line, as well as yours."_

_Spencer swallowed, all breath leaving him. "I won't let you gamble with their lives." His throat was so tight it hurt to talk. "And, as for me…" He licked his lips, more out of reflex than because of nervousness. "I guess you're going to kill me either way", he pointed out._

_Waylon's lips didn't give an answer, nor did the chillingly calm hand holding the weapon. But those eyes… They said a lot._

_Spencer stared at the man before him, found his gaze locking with those hard, greedy eyes. And suddenly he knew for sure._

_There was no way out. He was going to die, one way or another. That choice wasn't in his hands anymore. But he still had the power to choose if he was going to take those he loved the most with him._

_DeAnna and Neah… They were still alive. He'd sworn to protect them, and so far he'd managed to do just that. And his team… He wasn't going to let Waylon get to them, not before they got his clues. He wasn't about to stop fighting now. Not when he could still give them all a chance. And even at that moment of utter despair that was a thought he could accept._

_He was the only one who knew where his two most precious people were. It was because of that secret his team – family – was threatened. If he'd be taken out of the equation…_

_Yes. He'd always been good at math. He didn't always like it._

_So, under Waylon's disbelieving eyes, he stepped to the slippery railing, then held his hands high once more. It was stunning, really, that his legs were completely stable. Perhaps his body was in a state of shock. The sound of his heart thumping echoed in his ears._

_"Hey!" Waylon's voice held a clear edge of uncertainty, and he could tell it drove the man insane. Suddenly all control had been ripped from the man's hands. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"_

_To his own surprise Spencer smiled. Because he didn't see Waylon Leeds there before his eyes. "If you would've ever cared about anyone…", he breathed out, feeling utterly exhausted all of a sudden. The thumping of his heart increased, as though it'd been preparing for the final sprint. "… you'd understand."_

_Waylon's mouth opened, but he didn't pause to listen. He took a deep breath, one that filled his whole mind with Neah's scent, then took a step into the emptiness._

_And he fell._

_Fell until something grabbed his wrist, so suddenly and hard that he emitted a small cry of pain as searing agony crept through his arm._

_Waylon's eyes burned while the man held on to his wrist with all his might. "Oh no. You're not going to put an end to this. Not until you've told me where my daughter is. I'm not going to let you fall."_

_A chilling amount of peace and clarity filled Spencer as his mind already drifted into some place far away. Quite vaguely he noticed how the other man's arm shook while trying to hold on to him. "You won't be able to stop it", he pointed out. "You won't be able to hold on to me forever."_

_He was right. Of course he was right. A look of pure agony, rage and frustration appeared to Waylon's eyes when the man's hold first began to slip, then broke completely. And there was nothing to stop Spencer from crashing into the black nothingness. He fell, fell and fell, for what felt like eternity. Until suddenly something inside him cried out a warning, told him that the time had come._

_There, less than a second before the impact that claimed his life, Spencer allowed his eyes to open halfway. What he saw there, illuminated by the cold lights of streetlamps, made him smile._

_He knew nothing more._ /

* * *

><p>Derek couldn't think or even feel a thing as he let his car speed through the practically empty streets in nearly deserted parts of the city. He'd already felt far too much that night – he just couldn't stand more.<p>

All of it – Neah, DeAnna, all the bits and pieces of the genius he'd had no idea of – were crashing down on him at once. It made him feel like he was losing Spencer all over again.

He grit his teeth, so hard that the taste of blood filled his mouth.

Spencer… He'd never get the chance to unite the two lives he'd led. He'd never get to see his daughter grow up. He'd never see the tiny family he'd left behind again. How the hell was any of that fair?

Blissfully unaware of how blurry his eyes were Derek frowned as something claimed his attention, pulled him forcefully from those bitter thoughts.

There were blue and red lights, only a slight distance away. What looked like a sea of them.

Half subconsciously he wiped his eyes with a harsh motion, hitting the brakes as fast as he could. The car emitted a slight screech for mercy under his violent motions.

Policemen in their uniforms were rushing in and out of the apartment building at his right, and along with them a group of paramedics navigated their way through to get inside. And in the middle of all the hassle William Reid stood absolutely still, a grave look on his ashen face.

Derek paid no attention to how or where he parked his car. The next thing he knew was that he was approaching William with steps that weren't far from hostile. Their eyes met, and all of a sudden he froze. For at that very moment he knew. "It's Neah, isn't it?"

William sighed, closing his eyes for a stretched moment. The man appeared ready to fall asleep standing up. The lines on his face answered far more forcefully than the words he eventually managed to squeeze out. "I already called agent Hotchner. But I think you should go there fast, before they take her away."

Derek didn't need to be told twice. His motions left no room for objections as he made his way inside, then towards the correct apartment. At some point he even managed to pull out his badge, it seemed, because he showed it to more people than he could count when they showed up to block his path. He didn't have to ask anyone which the correct apartment was. The steady stream of people led him quite well, as did the stains of blood. Cold spread through his veins as alarm rose, but nothing could've prepared him for what he faced when entering the apartment.

The blood… It seemed to be _everywhere_. There was also movement, so much that for a moment Derek actually feared he might end up trampled. Cops, paramedics and forensics were swarming all over the place. There was also the corpse of a man, lay only a couple of steps away from him, covered in blood that'd sprayed from a gunshot wound to the head. There were grim expressions on the faces of the professionals that put the poor soul into a bag, doing their job with perfectly steady hands.

Derek's attention, however, focused on none of those things. All he could see was the other body, slumped to a floor not all that far away. He was almost sure his heart stopped for a second or two while his eyes widened.

There was a gunshot wound on Neah's stomach, and he could tell from the paramedics' expressions that things weren't looking too good. She'd clearly lost a lot of blood. But against all odds her bleary eyes were halfway open. She was still awake.

Ignoring the suspicious looks sent his way, as well as the questions and orders barked out, he made his way to the barely conscious woman as fast as he could.

He answered the medics' questioning looks with showing his badge, then asked the question he'd been dreading with his eyes. The shake of a head he got as a response made everything inside him grow utterly cold.

Just then he felt a touch that made him shiver with surprise. Looking down he found Neah staring right back at him. She took a feeble hold of his hand and he could just tell how hard she tried to hold on.

He grit his teeth, trying his hardest to keep his composure. "I know it hurts, but everything's going to be okay. Just stay with me, okay? Keep your eyes open."

Neah breathed a couple of times, focusing with all her might, until she managed to speak in a voice he barely heard. "I… I got his side and arm. I got him."

Derek felt a lump of rage and something entirely different forming in his throat as he nodded, his mind spinning madly. "That's good. You did good. And we'll catch him, okay? DeAnna and you will be safe."

Neah's eyes spoke all necessary. He could tell she tried to hold his hand, to say something more, but she just didn't have the strength. Without saying a word he took her bloodied hand and gave it a firm squeeze, holding on for both of them. He couldn't tell if there was a response before she was already taken away, rushed towards the hospital. He couldn't rip his eyes from the blood that was left on the floor as she was taken away. He couldn't look away even though he felt sick to his stomach.

And then, just as his thoughts and emotions were about to spin out of control, he heard the dial tone of his cell phone. It was Penelope. He had to gather himself for a long moment before he dared to pick up. "Yeah?"

"_I… I know that this is a horrible timing, but… DeAnna started crying as soon as you left, and she won't stop. I've tried all the tricks, but… I think she wants her uncle._"

Somewhere in the middle of the chaos Derek realized that he had two options. To head out for a mindless chase after Waylon Leeds, or to hurry to Spencer's daughter. The decision was made faster and more effortlessly than he could've ever imagined. "I'll be there in a second."

The rest of the brief phone call was nothing but a blur to him, as was the route back to his car. It wasn't until he sat into the vehicle the emotions finally kicked in once more, with such force that he was sure they'd suffocate him. And at that moment he finally gave himself the chance to let it all out.

He punched the steering wheel with absolutely all his force, kept hammering until it felt like bones were fractured and blood stained his skin. Slowly but inevitably the dry, breathless heaves he kept delivering turned into first dry, then tear filled sobs.

It took what felt like forever before his head functioned well enough to produce coherent thoughts.

He hadn't been able to protect his best friend, the only brother he'd ever had. But he still had the chance to keep the genius' daughter safe, to make sure that Spencer's sacrifice wouldn't go to waste. And that was exactly what he'd do.

Pulled together with that thought Derek did what he'd been forced to do far too many times in his short life. He grit his teeth and pulled in a deep breath, pushed the sharp pieces floating around his chest together once more.

Then he started the car and drove away. And somehow he had a feeling that he wasn't alone.

* * *

><p>All her life JJ had been forced to be a strong girl, a smiling child who couldn't be brought down by anything. But in the shadows of that endlessly long night she didn't have to be any of that, for the first time in her life.<p>

And so, as she sat there on the bed she shared with Will and stared through the window, for the first time since Spencer's death it didn't hurt to breathe.

The following morning she'd call Aaron and Erin Strauss, and announce that she needed some more time off. Then Will would take her to see a psychiatrist called Paulina Weston. After that… she just didn't know. This time her life wasn't in her own hands.

But she wasn't afraid of the unknown. Not when she knew she'd be guarded and protected, by those still living and some who'd already passed on.

Comforted slightly by that thought she lay back down and snuggled closer to Will, letting one of her hands ghost above where his heart was beating determinedly. She wasn't surprised or startled when all of a sudden he took the hand and gave it a squeeze. He'd always been a light sleeper. After a one more deep breath she closed her eyes. For the first time since Spencer's death she wasn't afraid of falling asleep.

Maybe when she'd finally wake up from this nightmare to a life where nothing was the same anymore, when she was strong enough to face the world without one of her most precious friends, she'd be able to smile again. Maybe she'd even be able to tell Henry all about the godfather she would've wished from the bottom of her heart he would've had the chance to know.

She'd make damn sure both Spencer and her sister could look at her from up above and be proud of her, even if she now needed quite a bit of help.

That thought lulled her to sleep. Once again she dreamt of Spencer. This time not all of the dreams were nightmares.

* * *

><p>When Aaron entered the hospital's waiting room he wasn't surprised at all to find William. The man appeared far paler than usual and incredibly tense while sitting there, his chin leaned to his balled fists.<p>

Aaron took a second before approaching. "I just got a call from Morgan. Waylon's wounded – Neah managed to shoot him before he left the apartment. It's likely that he'll need to get patched up before he can keep running."

William nodded slowly, and for a moment he was sure the man hadn't even heard him. "He's too smart to come here. He's going to find someone who'll stay quiet."

Aaron nodded in his turn, glancing sharply to his side when a doctor came in. He focused on William once more when the doctor went to a elderly couple instead. "Both my team and yours are going through several possibilities." He hesitated for a moment before adding the rest, for some reason unsure if he wanted to share the piece of information with the other man. "Morgan went to see DeAnna. Garcia's babysitting her."

The look that appeared to William's face tore his heart because he could immediately understand the turmoil. All the guilt, sadness, rage and longing no earthly powers could soothe… It was the grief of a father who was slowly starting to realize that he'd lost absolutely everything. He could've sworn there were tears in those eyes for a moment. "I was the one who ordered him to hide everything. No one was supposed to know what he was doing. I told him to hide it, although I could tell it was killing him. I think he told Diana that she was a grandmother, but…" There was a slight pause. "I forced him to hide, until he disappeared from me. Do you know what's the worst part?" The man's voice drowned into choked gasps, and at that moment the walls that'd been kept up much too long came crashing down. The words whispered next were almost too quiet to be heard. "I had no clue of who Spencer really was. And it's my own fault."

Aaron wished he would've been able to open his mouth and say something, anything, to ease the other's obvious ache. But his lips remained glued together. And then a doctor entered the room, claiming all his attention.

The doctor was a man of his age with shortcut, somewhat messy brown hair and exhausted gray eyes. There was a grave look on his face.

* * *

><p>The car was utterly, ominously silent as Emily and David made their way towards a address they'd just been given. According to the CIA it was one potential hideoutof Waylon's. The two of them had instantly offered to check it out.<p>

Erin Strauss had given firm instructions that none of them would be allowed to do fieldwork yet, but Emily didn't care about the consequences of defying the woman. If this meant that Waylon would be caught, she was happy to sacrifice as much as her career.

This was the only fucking thing she could still do to help Spencer.

"Emily." David's voice was hoarse and far tighter than usual. He went on although she didn't move her eyes from the view outside the car's window. "Before we go in, there's something I need to ask you. And I need you to answer honestly." There was a pause while he took a harsh turn to the right. "If we actually find Waylon… What are you going to do to him?"

Her eyes smouldered and narrowed, and venom traveled through her with such force that made her shiver. "What the hell do you think I'm going to do?" Her eyes were as sharp as her tongue when she finally looked at him, saw the darkness in his eyes that'd never been there before. "I'm a profiler, so don't try to be hypocrite. I know you'd do the same thing."

David squeezed his mouth to thin line, not emitting a word.

And then they were there, parked outside a house that'd seen its best days years ago almost outside Quantico. Even though sun would rise soon hungry, decadentshadows danced around the house, luring them into its devious secrets as they climbed out of the vehicle and approached with caution. They exchanged firm looks before opening the door that'd almost fallen from its place and entering soundlessly.

The part of the house they could see immediately were utterly dark. There was no furniture, no proof of someone having been there. That was until Emily's eyes darted towards the floor. Her heart shuddered.

Droplets of blood, signaling towards stairs that led the way downstairs.

With a quick gesture she got David's attention and showed him what she'd found. The man nodded with a solemn expression. They both had hands on their guns as they began to move towards the stairs, then followed the route downstairs, constantly keeping their eyes open for traps. They were careful to step over the couple of wires that'd been set their way.

Finally, after what felt like a decade, they were there. A quick inspection proved that they were alone, and David dared to switch on a flashlight. The sight the light revealed made chills rise inside Emily.

On the floor was a bullet, along with quite a bit of blood. Blood that wasn't even dry.

Waylon Leeds had just been there. But that didn't change the bitter fact that they were hopelessly too late.

At that moment David swore, long, hard and colorfully. As a searing sensation took over her eyes Emily wanted to do the same.

* * *

><p>In the headquarters Derek felt torn while holding DeAnna, very much aware of the fact that he was alone with the baby now that Penelope had gone to the bathroom.<p>

A huge part of him screamed, howled, that he should've been chasing Waylon, to make the man pay for what he'd done to Spencer. But the rest of him felt that he was exactly where he was supposed to be. It felt right, in a bizarre way he couldn't explain, to have DeAnna emitting extremely adorable happy noises in his arms.

Somehow, deep down, he knew that this was far more important than getting revenge. And he had a feeling that this was what Spencer would've wanted. For now that was enough.

Making sure there was no one around to see what he was doing Derek freed one of his hands from the baby and searched through his pockets. It took a moment before he found what he'd been looking for. A inferno of emotions lit up inside him when he put the item gently to its place around DeAnna's neck.

A whistle.

He only managed to speak after hearing a clearly excited sound from the baby as she began to investigate the gift. "I… gave that to your daddy, a lifetime ago. He wasn't as happy about it as you are. It's to make sure you're safe, kid." He brushed the whistle with his fingertips. His eyes stung, but it passed by with a firm grit of teeth. "Just… Don't be as hardheaded as he was, okay? If you ever need help, with anything at all, don't hesitate to blow. Okay? Don't ever hesitate to ask me for help."

DeAnna looked at him, long and hard, with her eyes so serious that it felt out of place on her baby's face. Then she smiled, in that very same way Spencer once did, and took a firm hold of his finger.

Derek wasn't sure if he wanted to laugh or cry, so he emitted a mixture of both. "I'm taking that as a promise", he managed.

"Hey." He almost jumped at the sound of Penelope's voice. There were traces of sleepless nights and tension on her face even when she gave him a slight smile. "What are you two doing?"

Derek focused on the baby once more, carefully hiding the whistle before the woman got the chance to see it. "Just waiting for news, baby girl." A slight frown crossed his face. "Any word from Hotch yet?"

"Not yet." The silence stretched until Penelope spoke once more. "We will catch him – he won't be able to run away forever. They never do. You know that, right? We'll make damn sure he won't be able to steal away anyone else."

Derek's jaw tightened as he nodded. He really, truly hoped Penelope was right.

All three of them were slightly startled when his cell phone started ringing all of a sudden. It was Aaron. Derek was fast to pick up. "How is she?" he demanded instantly.

A couple of seconds passed before Aaron spoke in a tone he'd never heard before. "_She never made it off the table._"

* * *

><p>Outside the borderlines of the city, just past the roadblocks the CIA had had the time to build up, Waylon Leeds pulled his lungs full of fresh air and closed his eyes from the sunrays of a rapidly rising new day. At that very moment he felt lighter than he had in what felt like forever.<p>

Neah was gone – one phone call from a disposable cell phone had been able to confirm that. He'd succeeded. Her punishment had been served.

Now, he was finally free to move on with his life. Now if only he'd manage to disappear fast enough. He suspected strongly that even his recently changed haircolor and the sunglasses he'd just put on wouldn't work as a disguise very long.

And he needed some damn painkillers, he decided and fought back a wince when the constant throbbing pain in his side intensified once more. It seemed Neah managed to be a thorn in his flesh even after her death.

He opened his eyes slowly to see a truck headed his way. He tilted his head, then took a step closer to the road.

Why not. He couldn't really be picky.

He lifted his thumb, and gave a grin that revealed his teeth when the truck first slowed down, then came to a stop almost right beside him.

* * *

><p>'<em>Acceptance is not submission; it is acknowledgement of the facts of a situation. Then deciding what you're going to do about it.<em>'

(Kathleen Casey Theisen)

* * *

><p>TBC, perhaps, for a epilogue.<p>

* * *

><p>AN: Oh boy…! I can't believe that this is just about over. (gawks, then wipes eyes a bit)

**PLEASE, **do leave a review to let me know your thoughts on this chapter! Was it any good, at all? Or should I demolish it asap? Do leave a note to let me know! It'd mean a LOT, ya know? (gives puppy's eyes)

And hey, would you guys like to read an epilogue?

THE EPILOGUE WOULD BRING THE FOLLOWING: Time has passed, and several things are about to change. As several teammembers consider taking lifechanging steps, Waylon Leeds' shadow comes lurking in. Will they catch him? Will they be able to overcome the weight of sorrow and follow the paths Reid would've wanted them to take?

Until next time, folks, with whichever story that'll be! I really hope I'll be seeing ya around.

Peace out!

* * *

><p><strong>Avesona23<strong>: I'm sorry for being late, too! (winces) Sometimed my head just goes out of whack. It's really annoying.

Poor team, no? But at least now they know everything. (sighs)

I BET Spencer would've made Derek a goddaddy! Who would he have chosen, if not his best friend? (grins, then winces a bit) The poor thing! Soon we'll now how this story ends for all of them.

Hmm… I must confess bits and pieces with Spencer and Neah sounds tempting. Thank you so much for the request! (hugs)

GOSH! I'm beaming with pride over hearing that you enjoyed so many parts of the story. It truly means a lot, ya know? I REALLY hope the rest will please you just as much.

Monumental thank yous for the review!

C ya at Acceptance, I hope.


	7. Postlude

A/N: So yeah, I just couldn't leave you without a finishing piece. You guys deserve a closure, as does this story. (grins)

First off, MASSIVE thank yous for those amazing reviews for the previous chapter! (GLOMPS) You seriously helped me with molding together this final bit. So thank you! (hugs again)

Awkay… (takes a deep breath) Beginnins and ending are always the bits of any fic I'm the most nervous about, so I'll get this kicked out in the open before I change my mind. I REALLY hope you'll find this a worthy closing piece!

* * *

><p>'<em>We must embrace pain and burn it as fuel for our journey.<em>'

(Kenji Miyazawa)

* * *

><p>Postlude<p>

* * *

><p><em>Two Years Later<em>

* * *

><p>That quite early morning there was coldness in the air that shouldn't have been there so long before winter. Derek shivered and pulled his jacket tighter around himself while making his way out of the jet to see Burlington International Airport in Vermont. Shivers crossed his body as he began to realize that today might finally be the end of a hellish chase that'd continued for over two years. Now, finally, they had what appeared to be solid trails towards Waylon Leeds. But for some reason the monster who claimed the life of his best friend wasn't the only thing bugging his head.<p>

DeAnna… She was angry with him when he left – she always was when he explained that he had a new case, but this time had been different. He wished, from the bottom of his heart, that she would've been so old that he could've tried to explain, that he would've been able to tell her that he was desperately trying to make sure her parents hadn't died for nothing. That sometimes adults have to face the worst of monsters to make sure those they love are safe.

"Try to push her out of your mind for a while and focus on the case. Otherwise you won't be able to function." It wasn't until Aaron spoke he noticed that the man was stood directly beside him with a firm, tight expression. "Trust me, she'll be fine."

His muscles relaxed ever so slightly. "Are you like this with Jack?" he inquired without giving it much of a thought.

Hard as he tried he couldn't name the look on the unit chief's face. "Worse."

Derek relaxed a bit further, even came close to smiling.

Playing the role of a spare-daddy… Well, it hadn't come out naturally for him. But he hadn't been forced to do it all alone, anyway. The entire team had been there, right by his side.

From the beginning Penelope had taken it as her duty to babysit DeAnna whenever they were on a case. It was easy, anyway – DeAnna had always been a easy, quiet child. It was still a miracle to Derek that Erin Strauss had given no objections.

David most definitely wasn't a natural born babysitter, but the man tried the best he could. Derek remembered several occasions all the way from the times when DeAnna was just a baby when she was on David's lap, listening intently when the man told her stories in a soft, quiet voice. He never used that tone with anyone else.

Aaron, on the other hand, had a lot of experience from the role of a dad in beforehand. He'd offered valuable help, in more ways than one. With DeAnna Derek had been baffled to see a side of the unit chief he could've never imagined existed.

It'd taken Emily a while to figure out what to do with a tiny child, but she was a fast learner and DeAnna was a good teacher. Their relationship wasn't very vocal, but that didn't make it any less significant – actions spoke far louder. With Emily DeAnna read her first few sentences. It was Emily who taught DeAnna to play poker when the girl had just turned two. DeAnna never looked as much like her daddy as she did with a deck of cards in her hands.

And JJ… She was a fantastic substitute to the mommy that couldn't be present in DeAnna's life, and the girl helped the blonde cope with what had been stolen from her. JJ looked after the girl as often as she could, and Henry proudly called DeAnna his spare-sister.

Their family wasn't intact anymore, but at very least they hadn't been torn apart. They'd faced the horrible past two years together, picked up the pieces one by one and endured. Now they'd also bring it all to an end together.

Derek's thoughts tangled he saw the person waiting for them. He shivered a little.

William Reid was stood only a slight distance away, wearing a expression that seemed much tighter than Aaron's. There were shadows in the man's eyes he didn't remember seeing ever before. "I just got a confirmation from my team. Waylon's in the presumed location. We have to strike fast."

Derek nodded stiffly, feeling another shiver. They'd end this, now or never.

* * *

><p>While sitting in the car that'd take the team to Waylon's location William took his time and examined what was his son's second family.<p>

Aaron's eyes swept over them all, evaluating and musing. William understood why – Aaron was strong, but he didn't think the man would've been able to handle losing another member of his team. Beside the unit chief David sat as still and silent as a statue, only his chest and eyes giving signs of life. The man's both fists were balled so tightly that his knuckles had turned white. William's eyes then shifted towards JJ as she placed a lock of blonde hair behind her ear and bit her lower lip the same way Spencer did sometimes. William knew how important his son was to her, but it still startled him slightly to see that fire and venom in her eyes. Derek and Emily, on the other hand… He'd never felt so much anger in _anyone_, and he couldn't help wondering how, exactly, the two were planning on ending this.

He'd fought with Strauss for the longest time before she'd given him the permission to include this particular BAU-team to the operation of catching Waylon. He hoped from the bottom of his heart that he hadn't made a huge mistake. Deep in his heart he knew he hadn't.

Just like he knew that there was a reason why he never did what would've been necessary to prove that he was DeAnna's grandfather and thus her legal guardian, why he let this team raise his granddaughter instead. One bitter mistake was enough. He was done disappointing Spencer.

Plus it was their profile that helped them trace Waylon to Vermont, three months after he started killing again. They deserved the chance to finish this.

He focused on JJ once more, deciding that it was finally time to focus on the present. "I assume you briefed them on what I told you over the phone."

She nodded, her eyes far more serious than he'd ever seen them. "It's a old butcher house right outside the city." It was easy to tell that she felt sick to her stomach, and he realized that it wasn't just because of Waylon. He wondered when she'd tell the team that she was pregnant again. "He… likes to storage the victims there."

William nodded, his muscles tightening. Aaron, however, beat him to speaking. "He may not be expecting us, but he loves traps. Have to advised your team to be cautious?"

"I have", William assured, feeling chills upon realizing that they were less than minutes from their location. He grit his teeth, giving the entire team a long glance. "Good luck, all of you. Now let's finish this."

The team didn't need to be told twice. The car pulled to a stop, and with looks that spoke much louder than words the they abandoned the vehicle. Once outside they met William's own team of five. Rapid hand signals from him and Aaron told both units what they were supposed to do, and they split up to enter the eerie, huge building before them from varying angles.

Before they parted ways William noticed that Derek opened a cell phone connection before following Aaron and Emily. He wouldn't have asked who was on the other end even if he'd been given the chance – he could practically imagine the look on Penelope's face as she sat in her lonely office, unable to do anything but wait.

It took all William had not to cough as he walked through the long, dark hallways. The stench was absolutely horrible, and the dust hanging all over the place only made it worse. Despite the lack of light he saw the blood splattered practically everywhere. He didn't even want to know what secrets and horrors the house's walls were guarding.

His team of three secured altogether five rooms, only to find them just about empty. All they ran into was some more blood, along with sheets of paper that had hasty handwriting written all over them.

He already took a hold of his earpiece, ready to announce the base that they'd hit a dead end, until the commotion began.

First came the shouts, then gunshots, soon followed by screams. By the time the third gunshot rang out, soon followed by the fourth and last one, William was already running.

He made it to the main part of the building, and froze.

In the huge hall six women were hanging from hooks, their frost covered faces twisted into everlasting looks of sheer horror. But his attention was entirely elsewhere. For on the floor two more bodies lay.

Aaron and Derek were hovering above Emily who lay on the floor, her eyes closed and her face dangerously pale. There was some blood below her nose and what looked like the beginning of a bruise on her chin. The worst bit was, however, the hole on her jacket, almost directly where her kevlar vest ended.

William swallowed, feeling sick to his stomach.

And then Emily began to move, hissing loudly.

Derek was momentarily too stunned to react, but Aaron was quick to push the woman back down. "Hold still, alright? Waylon got you before we had the chance to see it coming. You most likely have a concussion and some bruises."

William's head spun slightly. He saw that hole, gaping mercilessly back at him. How could she possibly be…?

Just then Emily's hand moved, taking something from directly where the bullet had hit. Most of the damage had been caught by her vest, but the remaining pieces of a bullet… They'd slammed to what looked like a piece of some strange puzzle. It'd been hanging around her neck from a black leather ribbon. William was almost sure he heard her whisper "Reid's star…".

From the look in Aaron's eyes he could tell the unit chief understood something he didn't while the man nodded slowly, a foreign look in his eyes.

While Derek took a hold of the device placed by his right ear and spoke something – to Penelope, most likely –, Emily lost her battle against the dark and Aaron made a call for paramedics, William's gaze strayed towards the other body on the floor.

Waylon Leeds appeared decades older than in the pictures he'd seen. The man's eyes were closed as he lay there unmoving but still breathing, covered in his own blood. He could distinguish three gunshot wounds on the monster's torso. He didn't know who'd taken the shots and honestly, he didn't even care. He only hoped they were enough to keep Waylon down forever.

Enough to make sure that this nightmare was over for good.

(None of them noticed how not all that far away JJ put down her gun, her blue eyes hard as steel.)

* * *

><p>Sometimes Penelope really, truly hated her part as the one on the sidelines. That day was most definitely one of them.<p>

Hearing the shouts, gunshots, the kicks and punches… She couldn't remember many times when she would've been as terrified. Emily's hisses of pain didn't make it any easier.

But then, just as she was about to lose it, Derek's voice spoke. "_Everything… Everything's okay, baby girl. Everything's okay. Waylon… He's been shot three times. It's over._"

As soon as those words had been spoken Penelope felt tears filling her eyes. She didn't manage to blink them away when the room's door opened all of a sudden, followed by DeAnna's voice. "Aunt Penny?" The girl seemed slightly startled. "Why are you crying?"

Penelope opened her mouth, only to realize that there was no way she would've been able to produce speech. Instead she gave a feeble, somewhat watery smile and gestured the little girl to come closer. DeAnna didn't have to be told twice. Still unable to speak, Penelope wrapped her arms tightly around the girl and held on with all her might.

It was finally over. It was really, truly over.

Penelope liked to think that she didn't imagine the touch she could've sworn she felt on her shoulder.

* * *

><p>In a hospital's waiting room JJ opened her eyes at the scent of coffee to find a takeaway mug held out for her.<p>

David appeared exhausted, but somehow it looked like some weight had disappeared from his shoulders. "I had a feeling you could use one of these."

She found herself smiling as she accepted the offering and took a long, grateful sip. "Thanks." She then glanced towards the direction of the room's door. Where was Aaron? Had she fallen asleep? "Any news?"

David nodded. "Prentiss is fine, just a bit banged up. Aaron's there to see her."

JJ nodded once more, then glanced towards her hands. They were still shaking under a storm of slowly fading adrenaline. "It's… really over now, isn't it?" she whispered, feeling utterly spent all of a sudden. It _had to_ be.

It was David's turn to nod. "Yeah. It is."

JJ shuddered. And then it all came flooding out.

She'd spent a month in a psychiatric ward. Even now she had regular meetings with a psychiatrist, and most nights she still needed medication to rest. But she'd honestly thought she'd just about gotten better. That was until tonight.

Because now, with the tears that appeared to her cheeks one by one, she realized that she was truly healing.

When she called Will an hour later to tell him the news he asked her if she was alright. Finally she could be fully honest when she said "Yes".

* * *

><p>Emily's whole body hurt when she woke up. It took a long moment before she recognized the dark space around her as a hospital room.<p>

She groaned, rubbing her face with both hands. "Oh crap…"

She was mildly startled upon hearing movement until Aaron spoke. "According to the doctor you don't have any broken bones, but you have a lot of bruises and a concussion. They want to keep you here overnight for observation."

She frowned in objection, finally facing him. "No. I'm not staying here."

The look Aaron sent her way cut wings from any possible objections. "He could've killed you. If that final shot had been fired just a little bit later, the team would've lost another member. So no. We're not taking chances."

Emily nodded, a million thoughts and tangled feelings spinning through her head. And suddenly she understood that this was the moment of truth she'd been waiting for for a very long time.

Spencer… He'd saved her, this time. He hadn't been able to pull her away from from the crushing kick that threw her to the ground, or the second and last strike, but he _had _shielded her from the bullet. Now, as she took in the look on Aaron's face, she realized that she couldn't be arrogant enough to expect her luck to last forever – to expect that Spencer would be able to save her again. No matter how much she hated it she needed help or she could very well be stolen from the team as well.

If she'd learned anything from Spencer, it was that keeping secrets could be dangerous – for the entire team. She couldn't repeat his mistake. And that's why she spoke in a quiet, serious tone. "Hotch." She continued when his eyes found hers. "I know that this is a bad time, but… I really need to tell you something. I should've a long time ago." She swallowed, tasting blood for some reason, and looked away. "It's about a man named Ian Doyle."

* * *

><p>That night was sleepless for the entire team as they waited for news on Waylon. According to his doctor the man was heavily unconscious and in a critical condition. The odds were against him, but anything was still possible.<p>

The following morning Derek's steps were somewhat heavy as he walked through the eerily quiet cemetery, knowing the path to his location all too well.

He really needed to do this. He'd known it since he stepped out of the jet. His best friend deserved this.

It was, however, hard to remember that as his steps paused right in front of Spencer's grave.

It still stung like hell to see the younger man's name on the stone.

Derek swallowed thickly, and hesitated for the longest time before finally speaking. "I'm sorry, that it took me so long to come and see you. But… I guess I wanted to wait until I have news for you. Now I do." He grit his teeth. "We finally found Waylon. We made him pay for what he did to you, Neah and all those other people. It's… It's finally over, now."

There was no response. Not that he would've expected such, but it still hurt.

Derek was so deep in thought that he shuddered upon hearing Penelope's familiar voice. "See, Dina? There he is."

He turned just in time to see a worried expression on DeAnna's face. "You look sad", the little girl stated quietly.

To even his own surprise Derek managed to smile slightly. "Yeah, I'm fine." He nodded towards the grave although he would've much rather not seen it. "I just… I wanted to come and see your daddy."

DeAnna nodded, seeming to understand. The little girl then walked forward and sat before the grave like it'd been the most natural thing in the world. It wasn't until then Derek noticed the children's book in her small hands. "I can't read this properly yet, but aunt Penny said I'm getting better. She said you like books, so I wanted to read to you."

A gigantic blockage formed into Derek's throat as he watched the little girl read on, struggling with several words but fighting through nonetheless. At that moment he found himself missing Spencer more than he had in a long time.

Spencer would've been so proud of his daughter.

He shivered slightly when feeling a hand in his. Penelope's eyes didn't seem entirely dry as she squeezed his hand, giving him a look that said she understood. And suddenly it didn't hurt quite as much anymore.

They had no idea how long they'd been standing there until they heard steps from behind them. Peering over his shoulder Derek found David and JJ approaching. "We had a feeling you'd be here", JJ explained, trying to smile and failing. "Aaron's on the phone, he'll also be here in a second."

Derek nodded. "How's Prentiss?" he asked in a moment.

David gave a lopsided smirk. "Driving the hospital staff crazy. She wasn't happy about having to stay there."

For some reason Derek felt slightly warmer than before. It felt right to have pretty much the entire BAU-team gathering there to see Spencer now that the nightmare was over.

He opened his mouth but before he could say a thing DeAnna's voice cried out with clearly audible startle. "Look!"

In an instant every single one of them looked towards the direction to which the girl was pointing. Derek felt a shudder inside him.

There, pushing its way through the ground right next to Spencer's grave, was a single white rose that seemed to shine in the rays of a early morning.

DeAnna smiled radiantly. "It's daddy, isn't it?"

Derek nodded, and spoke although he felt so choked that it was nearly impossible. "Yeah, kid. It is."

* * *

><p>In Paris the voices coming from a laptop were the only sounds in a hastily decorated, small apartment that – according to the name on the door – was inhabited by a woman named Felicia Laurel.<p>

On the laptop's screen DeAnna smiled brightly and emitted sounds of delight while sprinting towards Aaron, never noticing the tiny camera fastened to the man's clothes that transmitted the footage.

Gosh… She'd grown up so much…!

"_Uncle Aaron, uncle Aaron! Come! Daddy says 'hi'!_"

As Aaron followed and DeAnna showed him the rose that'd appeared to the grave, babbling excitedly although the words tangled several times, the woman staring at the computer screen shuddered. A couple of tears slipped from Neah's now brown eyes, sliding down her cheek as she pushed a lock of strayed black hair behind her ear with a unsteady hand.

She knew that she couldn't be close to her daughter for both their safety. But that didn't make being away any easier. That didn't change the fact that she couldn't be in her daughter's life, watching the little girl grow up. That didn't change the fact that DeAnna was forced to grow up without either one of her parents.

The BAU-team was doing the best they could, though, she could tell. And somehow she had a feeling that Spencer was also watching over DeAnna. That was the hope she clung to.

She hoped, with her all, that Spencer could see their daughter, too. She really, truly wished he could've been there by her side keeping an eye on their little girl.

She reached out her hand and brushed the computer screen, hitting the exact spot the showed DeAnna's face. "I love you, sweetie. I love you very much", she whispered. "Don't ever doubt that, no matter how long I'm away."

Just then her cell phone started ringing, making her shudder again. She frowned upon noticing who the caller was. "Is something wrong?" _He_ never called with good news.

"_No, no. Actually… Actually, it's the opposite._" William's tone made shivers go through her. The pause that followed was much too long. "_I just got a call from the hospital. Waylon Leeds is dead._"

* * *

><p>'<em>As long as I can I will look at this world for both of us. As long as I can I will laugh with the birds, I will sing with the flowers, I will pray to the stars, for both of us.<em>'

(Sascha, as posted online)

* * *

><p>'<em>Do not stand at my grave and weep<br>I am not there; I do not sleep.  
>I am a thousand winds that blow,<br>I am the diamond glints on snow,  
>I am the sun on ripened grain,<br>I am the gentle autumn rain.  
>When you awaken in the morning's hush<br>I am the swift uplifting rush  
>Of quiet birds in circled flight.<br>I am the soft stars that shine at night.  
>Do not stand at my grave and cry,<br>I am not there; I did not die._'  
>(Mary Elizabeth Frye)<p>

* * *

><p><strong><em>End.<em>**

* * *

><p>AN: Oh boy… (blinks owlishly, then wipes a tear) It's… truly over, isn't? I can't believe it's really over!

You guys, THANK YOU from the bottom of my heart for all those fantastic reviews with which you've pushed me forward when my head's been all over the place! And also thank yous for the listings – and heck, for reading this! (HUGS) Thank you! You're all FANTASTIC!

I've gotta get going now. It's almost dinner time. (licks lips hungrily) Once again, thank you! Who knows, maybe I'll c ya guys again later.

Peace, love and all that jazz!

Take care!


End file.
